


Unwilling Host

by CreativeSweets, TheDarkSide



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Animal Instincts, Basically Bestiality, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Senju Tobirama, Female Uchiha Izuna, Female Uchiha Madara - Freeform, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSide/pseuds/TheDarkSide
Summary: Tobira, mythbuster and paranormal debunker, decides to tackle the long-standing legend of a creature living inside a haunted castle in the far reaches of the hills in Romania. Little is she aware that the legends are true, and she's about to enter the domain of a beast.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Senju Tobirama
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another RP between myself and Dark.
> 
> If you're new, oh _boy_ , but if you're not, you know what to expect.
> 
> Don't forget to read the tags, back out if you get queasy, etc. and please enjoy!
> 
> One last note: there are foreign languages used in this, and you can safely assume if a character's ENTIRE sentence is italicized, it's spoken in a different language. It should be relatively clear when and what things are being said, but if not just drop a comment and I can see if I can't make a part more clear.

Hashirama had, as a child in the long distant past, never imagined that he would read quite as much as he does now. Books of all kinds, of all ages, subjects, genres and appearances. He is not picky.

He reads in a number of languages, too, and no longer only in his native Romanian tongue. He has learnt Spanish, Greek, German, French, Swedish, Dutch and English from the pages. Not that he can _speak_ them. Not that it matters.

Hashirama has not spoken anything but the language of bestial grunting and growling for neigh on three hundred years now, and he has come to terms with that. For the most part, at least. The hole where his human voice was will not be filled.

Which is why he reads. Hashirama may not be capable of speech, but he _remembers_. He hears his voice in the quiet of his mind as his eyes discern the words. He reads because the memory is all he has left and wny notion of a voice that he once had would disappear entirely if he were to stop.

It means that Hashirama spends a lot of time in habitual dens throughout a castle that is no longer _his_ , though the same household serves him now as it did when he was a foolish youth. They do not age, or die, nor can they leave. He knows they resent him for it, but has given up on avoiding them just as they have ceased cursing him at every opportunity.

Instead they have abandoned him for the proper rulers of the castle. The most esteemed guests, who have so far outstayed their welcome that there seems no point trying to get rid of them.

That, too, is Hashirama’s burden. Two beautiful young women who will never leave; the source of his curse. The fae witches who seem to enjoy the punishment they chose for his guile to trick them into bed and scourn their love after a night of pleasures.

Madara and Izuna are his keepers, his guests and his chain to life. Under their power he shall neither age, nor die, nor speak until he finds someone whom he can love, and who will love him in turn for what he is.

Hashirama pauses before the library window as the hulking shape of his body catches his eye. The antlers of a stag, the body of a twisted wolf, a mane of hair, arms and hands of a manly beast and a long, thick tail. He is larger than any bear, rearing on his hind paws, a powerful hunter. A caged house cat.

All that remains of Hashirama are the human eyes of golden brown set in a beastly face, and they, too, are tired.

Izuna sighs and Madara scowls down at her book on her lap. If Madara has to listen to one more rant about how there hasn’t been any visitors lately, she’s going to tie her sister down to the bed and fuck her quiet. Or, well, until she’s _screaming_ but at least quiet about the lack of visitors.

It isn’t as though Madara _also_ isn’t silently sulking about the lack of any interesting teases for their little pet. After all, who in their right mind would fall in love with a beast when they could fall in love with her and Izuna?

At least the castle staff finally understand who owns the castle now, and who, exactly, is responsible for their fates. And who won’t be budged by bribes. A curse is a curse and when both her and her sister cast one, well, it’s not very simple to break, even _if_ they felt so inclined to give up their little game.

Izuna sighs again, longer this time.

Madara snaps her book closed, irritated and more than willing to yell at her sister to _get on the damn bed already_ when, as she looks up from her spot by the window, she notices a figure crawling through the mangled opening of the gates.

Her bad mood evaporates quickly.

“Well well, little sister, looks like we have _company_.” Madara says, grunting in pain as Izuna hops on her lap to also look out the window.

They share a knowing look with one another before peering back down at the cloaked figure.

Tobira will readily admit that the castle’s disrepair in addition to its remote location could bring about the fantastical legends of beasts and magic. Though, she amends as she walks closer to the walls from where she ducked through a rather large dent in the gate, the castle doesn’t actually appear to be _that_ bad off.

Ivy-infested and could use a few stones here or there, but overall it still appears sturdy. She’s excited to see what the _inside_ holds, if the outside is still so well-kept after all this time.

After adjusting her bag, she attempts the grand front doors, only to have them open up with barely a touch, hinges creaking. Tobira purses her lips, unimpressed. Already she can see that every ‘story’ she’s been told, either in person or online, has been a gross exaggeration. A damn _chipmunk_ could open those doors, and any animal living in this castle would feel like royalty with all the room and shelter.

But she hums and continues on, glad at least for the few rays of sunlight coming through high-set windows, her arrival at the castle much later than she would have liked but she had been planning on spending the night here, just to get a feel for the place during the night as well.

And to finally dispel most, if not _all_ of the rumors and superstitions about this place.

It’s a peaceful sort of quiet that surrounds Tobira as she methodically makes her way through the castle room by room. It doesn’t start to feel _odd_ until she’s climbing up the large staircase to the third floor, when she realizes that, aside from the large piles of fabrics and cushions in some corners of the rooms, the rest looks nearly _untouched_.

For a place with a legend of a mighty and terrible beast prowling around, one would think, if it were as large as legends say, things would be knocked over, broken, scratched up— _something_.

Unnerved, finally, Tobira finds her way to the balcony for fresh air and to watch the sun set, noting the second floor balcony as she leans over the railing.

* * *

Hashirama is _not_ sulking. He's too old to sulk, and has long since moved on to brooding, as is proper of something his age. He finds brooding goes particularly well with a good sunset, and likes to take his on the balcony with his eyes closed as he bathes in the red of the dying rays.

Until there's a scuff next to him and Hashirama, long accustomed to Izuna’s attempts at getting him to jump with fright, opens a lazy eye—only to find it's _not_ a brunette standing next to him. He freezes, breath catching in his chest before resuming in hunter’s quiet. This woman, who is obviously _another_ visitor, has hair like fresh snow.

She doesn't _look_ old, judging by her motion and posture, and her hands lack liver spots where they land on the railing. They're actually rather dainty hands, with long, slim fingers and well tended blunt nails. His mother may have called them 'harp hands' , when she was alive.

The woman leans over the balcony, seemingly absurdly confident in masonry that predates Hashirama by at least a hundred years, and rests her chest on it. And what a chest it must be, though Hashirama cannot _see it_ , for there's a tell-tale cracking crumble of mortar and stone giving way and he gazes on as the balcony rail crumbles.

It’s only once she's tipped forward passed the point of no return that he remembers himself and pounces into action. Hashirama grasps her by the waist, which is quite slender between his enormous hand shaped paws, and _throws_ her at the second floor balcony.

It's quite a fall, and he lingers long enough to see her stir and pat herself down, before turning tail, anger already bristling down his back. It seems the game is afoot, _again_.

Okay, Tobira thinks, she may have been a bit _too_ hasty to think the entire castle was sturdy. Once again she curses her tits for getting her into trouble… _again_. There isn’t even anyone around!

Well, that’s not _entirely_ true, since she remembers movement not her own as she fell—no, she must have hit her head when she fell. Squinting up at the third floor balcony, the sun has already set so much she can’t quite _see_ —did there used to be a space there?

A few tiles clatter down like an afterthought, just to remind her of legends of the walls _eating people_.

But no matter, it’s a proper reminder that she should go inside and find a place to bed down for the night, instead of waiting for _more_ of the balcony to fall off and onto her. Her electric lantern is perfect for helping her navigate through the broken-off pieces and she’s only taken three steps before she sees it: deep marks in some of the tiles.

If she let her imagination run away from her, she might even _believe_ that they were caused by a beast, from large, piercing claws. Good thing she knows better. However it doesn’t stop goosebumps from breaking out along her arms and the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.

As she twists to look around her, she hisses in pain, her free hand coming up to press on her side. _Both_ sides hurt, which she has no idea how that could have happened, given how she only fell on _one_ , but she mentally runs through the first-aid kit she brought with her, mind settling on the emergency satellite phone. Internal bleeding worries her mind as she carefully works her way back towards the library where there was more than enough open space near the fireplace for her to bed down with a gentle fire.

By the time she’s set up a fire, her waist is _killing_ her, and she wastes no time setting her supplies down and groaning as even the act of pulling her jacket off twinges the areas.

Her shirt comes up and off easily, and Tobira stares.

“What the—”

But it’s unmistakable, the _bruises_ on her waist. Two giant handprints, nearly encircling her entire waist. Or, at least what _appear_ to be handprints. Her mind races as she gently cleans off the specks of blood at the end of each ‘finger’ bruise, where claws might be—no.

 _No_ , there must have been some sharp bits she fell on, that’s all.

It sounds hollow even as she thinks it, but it would do no good to dwell on that right now. For now, she pulls back on her shirt, suddenly feeling a bit exposed and more than overwhelmed.

She wasn’t expecting to be _injured_ quite so soon into her stay.

After some food that surprisingly brings no creatures skittering by for a crumb, Tobira decides it’s time for nighttime exploration. _Gentle_ nighttime exploration.

Which turns into Tobira pulling down books of all sorts and collecting them onto the small table she’s moved by the fireplace. She doesn’t quite trust the ladders, and so she can only reach a third of the books, sadly.

After about a dozen books, Tobira curbs her interest in the _shelves_ because she knows she’d wind up with at least ten times the amount than she already has. Instead, she opens the first book, unsurprised to find it in extremely good condition—as with everything else in this place she’s seen, save some bits of balcony.

It’s in French, and reluctantly she thumbs through it before setting it off to the side. French isn’t her first language and she’s not particularly keen on _translating_ right now.

Out of the dozen books she pulled off the shelves, only _one_ is in English. Humming, she gently opens the further, mouthing the words as she reads the old print.

* * *

“She’s set up in the _library_.” Izuna informs her older sister. “I took the liberty of showing her some of the more interesting books.”

Madara shifts her gaze to where Izuna’s twirling around, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“So you charmed all the books of that story that was written about this castle in the various languages we’ve acquired over the years.” Madara interprets her little sister easily. 

The story was _written_ here in the castle, and the only reason they have it in as many languages as they do is because of their various guests translating it _oh so generously_ of them. Books can be made from other books, and the print is easy to rearrange into the proper order with spells, with the originals never leaving the safety of the castle and the authors spelled into silence.

All Izuna’s handiwork.

“C’mon, Madara, it’s called _fun_ —what use is a story if not to entice the senses and imagination?”

Madara stays silent.

Izuna huffs. “Oh fine, be like that. She’s got his handprints as deep marks on her pretty little waist from her little tumble off the balcony and a huuuuuge chest.”

Madara watches as Izuna makes a truly obscene gesture to make her point across. She stares just a couple moments longer, waiting for Izuna to start laughing.

“Surely”—Madara clears her suddenly dry throat—“surely they do _not_ come in that size.” 

Madara raises an eyebrow, and then the other one when Izuna smirks with a blush. “Huh.”

Izuna just nods.

Standing up and stretching, Madara walks over to her little sister. “Then I think it’s time we encourage our little pet to the library.”

Hashirama is dozing sprawled, and somewhat overflowing, on his favourite chaise in a parlour. His eyes are half open, glittering gold and luminescent green in the low light of the fire.

He doesn’t want to do this again; it's become awfully tiring to have his hopes crushed time and time again. At least it's a woman this time. The males, though fairly attractive, bring trouble and violence—Gaston in particular is a fitting example.

Hashirama knows sleep isn't going to get him out of this when he suddenly becomes rather acutely uncomfortable on a couch that was heavenly only moments before. Over time he's become familiar with the ways in which the sisters use magic, the traces of personality they leave behind. Subtle but inconvenient and unavoidable; Izuna.

Hashirama allows himself to slide off the chaise like wax down a candle to lie on the floor for a moment of protest. Then he rises and arches a stretch before shaking out his coat.

The tut of a tongue after a slow stroll towards the ballroom turns Hashirama to the library. Hashirama has had time enough to learn their signals, and that obedience usually means an easier time of things.

If he was unaware of their guest previously, he certainly knows of her _now_. Her scent lingers here; the sweat of her journey, the overly clean laundry soap of her clothes, the indescribable but unique bouquet of her person and the musk of her sex. Hashirama swallows as his mouth waters, and slips into the library when his tail twinges.

His bulk is hidden by the deep shadows that are the result of her electronic lamp, and he slinks through them soundlessly. His ears are perked and alert, and many years among the shelves allow him to move without his antlers disturbing the books.

Hashirama watches her for a moment, eyes lingering on flyaway hairs that glow like lightning in the fluorescent light. She is a striking symphony of juxtaposition; full lips and a pointed chin, high cheekbones and round cheeks, a relatively slim waist and an ample ass and a more-than generous bosom.

Her lamp flickers for a moment, Izuna’s magic, before a heavy volume tumbles from the shelf above to thump loudly against Hashirama’s head. Brash, impatient and heavy handed; Madara.

Tobira blinks as her lantern flickers, so caught up was she in the book—a rather interesting and incredibly _fitting_ story of a beast locked up in a castle and a well-read lady coming to the caste—that she almost forgot she _is_ in a castle with a supposed ‘beast’ of her own.

A loud _thump_ causes her to snap her gaze towards the noise, now acutely aware of her location again. The weird feeling is back and her skin crawls at a shuffling noise.

 _It’s just a shy animal_ , Tobira thinks as she scans the dark shadows, _better to stick near the fire_.

She turns around for just enough time to wince her way to the other side of the low table, putting her back to the fire and sitting there facing the rest of the library.

And that’s when she sees a pair of eyes, glowing with the glint of the fire and much, _much_ too high up for anything short of a bear in size. Her lips part in shock.

Oh, oh _fuck_.

Hashirama reaches up to rub between his antlers, resisting the urge to grumble irritably at the dull throb that the book has left him with. He makes sure not to take his eye off the little woman, who is dutifully staring right back.

He makes sure to hold her gaze for a little while, well aware of how much his...permanent guests enjoy a little dramatic flare, before closing his eyes and turning away to leave.

He startles a little when there's the noise of movement behind him, padding quickly to the door and slipping out and away from the woman who obviously never learned that one does not _chase large animals about_ in their den. Luckily Hashirama has been living here for a rather long time, and knows all the servants’ passages.

Never mind that he's a little wider in the waist and across the head than he was then, and he has to tilt his head and wriggle his behind in order to squeeze through. He pants a little in the aftermath as he trots up the stairs, which are a little narrow and difficult to navigate with his head tilted, and emerges in one of the servants’ quarters.

The room is empty, and Hashirama is free to wander back to his parlour, and hopefully resume his nap.

Tobira sees _enough_ of a shadow to believe that there really is a bear in here, or at least a creature as large as one. Perhaps a large mountain cat, to be able to tread so lightly. Her lantern offers no hints as she lifts it up when she turns out of the library, heart pounding.

An _actual_ animal!

When a few more moments pass with nothing to show, Tobira sighs, adrenaline fading away and her rational mind coming back. How _stupid_ , to chase after the animal! Of _course_ it was probably scared, and scared animals fight back the hardest. Best leave it for the night.

The fire behind her pops, the sound loud and sudden enough to cause Tobira to jump and nearly drop her lantern that flickers. Huffing a little in amusement, Tobira makes her way back to the fire and settles down to read some more.

* * *

“She reads rather quickly, don’t you think?”

Madara hums in agreement. “To have finished the story in a single night. Incredible.”

“She looks like she could use a good nap in reward, don’t you think?”

Madara cuts her gaze to her sister, who’s smiling rather innocently at her. As if she didn’t just suggest Madara cast a sleeping spell on their guest. The only reason Izuna is even _asking_ is because Izuna can’t cast a sleeping spell to save her life.

Well, maybe, if she could run away far enough while her opponent takes a minute long power nap.

No, Izuna’s _planning_ something and she wants the attractive young lady with hair like undyed silk to sleep through it. It’s probably something loud then.

Izuna bats her eyelashes at her.

Madara rolls hers back but is already raising her hands to cast the spell from where they’re hidden behind a sheet of illusionary magic in the library.

Izuna nearly vibrates out of her skin as she watches Madara cast her spell, winding the timer along her right pinky finger. As she watches the faint glow fade out from view, Izuna makes sure to remember that finger. After all, she _does_ need to break the spell at the right time. Set up an obstacle course for their _esteemed_ host to trip and stumble over as he’s still clumsy from the lack of sleep, and even _if_ he manages to not trip himself up, there’s nothing some good old training can’t make up for.

For all that Hashirama was _once_ human, he certainly is _not_ now, the multitude of beasts woven into his being now means that the first century Madara and her fun came from the various responses they could make him do.

And Izuna intends to make him _roar_.

The thought makes her cackle a bit, knowing full well the lovely lady _will not_ fail to disappoint and chase after Hashirama this time, not when the sun is rising and light is filling the castle.

When her sister throws her a raised eyebrow, Izuna simply grabs her hand and starts walking.

“Come on, we’ve got to set up.”

“Mind telling me what the plan is?”

“Yes, yes I _do_ mind.”

“Izuna.”

“Augh, please, sister,” Izuna pouts at where Madara has pulled her hand back and crossed her arms, “Let me have my fun, it’s been _ages_.”

Madara stays silent. Izuna sways closer, eyes falling into her best seductive look. 

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even let you have the first taste of the new toy.” Izuna whispers the last bit into Madara’s ear.

 _That_ makes Madara a lot more amenable.

* * *

Hashirama is, unfortunately, rather oblivious to any and all dastardly plans, as well as the majority of low pitched noises. He had finally fallen asleep on the chaise, curled up as tightly as possible, and has unwound throughout the night.

He has also rolled over and spread his legs, and has allowed his head to slide towards the floor to rest on his antlers. Which means that he's stretched out his throat and that, as a result, every breath vibrates through his voice box and passes his bared teeth and curled lips. One may therefore say that Hashirama is _snoring_.

Which is why he doesn't hear anyone approaching and remains rather deeply asleep, paws twitching.

“Aww _look_ Madara, he’s _sleeping_.” Izuna coos, not even attempting to be quiet.

“And snoring.”

Izuna drops her false cheer, settling into a more jeering tone laced with false concern. “It would be _such_ a shame were he to _wake up_.”

Madara’s hand flicks, and with the motion the chaise upends, spilling Hashirama completely off of it.

Izuna cackles and Madara smirks, both well enough aware by now to stay a healthy distance away.

Hashirama roars as his head is sandwiched between the floor and the weight of the couch. He scrabbles back, heart pounding as his instinctual reaction flares out of control.

His immediate reaction is to free himself, and he snaps and claws at where the chaise (his favourite bed, what a casualty), tearing it off his head and coming away with scraps of upholstery caught in his antlers. He scrambles back, teeth bared, and shakes his head furiously.

His anger turns to the cause of his pain, and Hashirama stumbles after them, teeth bared as he growls. Madara and Izuna turn to run, and Hashirama chases after them, determined to defend his territory.

He stumbles down the hall towards the foyer, paws clumsy with sleep as he trips over objects littering the hallways. The sunlight, hazy with the morning and dust motes, washes over his fur.

Hashirama loses them as he turns the corner, and he pauses, growling furiously as he lifts his muzzle to sniff after them. There's a scuffle in the hallway, and Hashirama turns with his hackles up and his teeth bared.

Tobira snaps awake just as a truly _loud_ roar echoes through the castle. She looks around her quickly before rubbing her eyes, already standing up to stretch. The sounds of nails scrabbling, things being tipped over, and low growls fill the air.

 _These_ are the sounds of an animal Tobirama would expect in a place such as this.

As such, she slings her backpack on to not only have access to her stuff should she need to run from the creature, but to have access to her tools and food to either fend off or bribe the animal. Hopefully her meager offerings can appease it.

Cautiously she heads towards where she heard the sounds, the growls and grunts enough to guide her. It’s as she’s about to reach the middle of the hallway that something big, bigger than she was expecting skids to a stop in front of her, sniffing the air.

Tobira knows of no animal that looks quite like… _that_. The hulking creature is reminiscent of the ‘beast’ of the book she read last night however she’s sure this beast is not quite so docile. It looks half-mad; the fur? hair? near its muzzle slicked wet and the rest of it sticking up in large chunks.

She takes a step back instinctually and mentally curses herself when the beast turns her way, sharp teeth and equally frightening antlers on display.

The daylight streaming through the windows leaves no shadow for the creature to hide in now, and Tobira raises her arms slowly in front of her, not willing to startle it into potentially attacking her. 

Should she, should she _talk_ to it? It certainly didn’t behave like _this_ last night, and Tobira can’t help but mull over that as she gnaws her lip in worry. If she speaks _softly_ enough, perhaps it won’t charge her.

“It’s okay,” Tobira starts, unashamed when her voice shakes because she can’t remember a time she’s ever been so frightened before, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Aw man, he’s always ruining my fun!” Izuna complains under her breath.

“And what more—exactly—did you have planned?” Madara hisses back, equally quiet.

“I wanted to have him give a _good_ roar…” Izuna pouts as she reveals the whip from inside her robe.

Madara pinches her nose and resists the urge to yell, the sound would give away their location and the illusion spell is hard enough to keep up with a _distraction_ like Izuna around her.

“You think I could have held both a strong enough illusionary spell to hide from him _and_ a sleeping spell on a magic-resistant person? Don’t make me _laugh_ Izuna.”

“Magic-resistant...so she’s going to be even _more_ fun when we finally snatch her up!”

Madara thumps her sister over the head, not at all moved by the little petulant ‘ow’. “Just shut up and watch.”

Hashirama’s ears turn back in annoyance at the sudden appearance of the woman from yesterday, and he flinches half a step back as she speaks to him. Not that Hashirama can understand a word she says to him.

He's uncertain what to make of the words, but the _tone_ is unmistakable. She's trying to offer him _comfort_ , and part of him wants nothing more than to close the distance and tuck his head under her arm.

But that is not his place. Hashirama has had more than enough time to know that the story is not _about him_ , and that he has but a role to play and nothing more.

His tail falls limp and his hackles settle, and Hashirama turns away again, as he must. He has learned well enough that comfort is a temporary illusion, and that resistance makes breaking away easier in the end.

Tobira relaxes several moments after the creature itself does. It looks… _sad_ —but perhaps that’s just Tobira projecting, perhaps because she _just_ read that story of a scenario almost too similar to this one.

Biting her lip again in indecision, she can’t help but be curious, to _want_ to see what will happen. So she slowly reaches to the side pocket of her bag, watching as those ears swivel towards her at the sound of her soft rummaging to feel for the right bag.

Triumphant, she sighs and nearly tenses up again when those eyes flick towards her. They look away, the ears turn away—that is, until Tobira opens the plastic bag containing her jerky. The sound is almost _painfully_ loud but Tobira simply acts as though she _doesn’t_ see how tense the creature is.

“Yeaaaah, that’s it,” Tobira encourages as she sees its nose twitch, “that’s a good...boy.”

Another look when the creature turns back her way confirms her initial thoughts. She stretches out one of the large pieces of jerky between her fingers, waving it gently in his direction.

Like this, she’s able to see that he has—“Such pretty eyes, yes? They’re very pretty.”

Tobira has always had a soft spot for animals, especially for hurt ones, and this creature sets off all of her _somewhat_ hidden maternal instincts. He looks in need of food, a bath, and sleep. In that order.

That angular nose twitches some more, but otherwise the creature makes no moves to come towards her.

Tilting her head, she shakes it gently. “Not to your liking?”

She gives the jerky a few more wiggles.

Hashirama looks at the food the woman has pulled out of her bag, an ear turning forward with indecision. He hasn't eaten in a day or two, not that he _needs_ to eat every day, but he is hungry.

Hashirama stretches out, nose leading the way. The little woman seems somewhat alarmed by how close he's getting, but that's to be expected. He is far larger than his crouched, hesitant posture makes him appear. 

The cured meat _smells_ safe. It looks and behaves just as dried meat should, and seems untampered with by any magic. There's nothing for it; the only way to be certain is to _eat_ it.

Hashirama gives her another quick assessing glance. They're still a good distance apart, perhaps the length of her forearm would be the measure of the open air between his nose and her fingers, but he doesn't want to get too close.

He stretches out, and in one quick motion, licks the offering out of her hand. She squeaks a little, but Hashirama has already stepped back to chew on his treat, which he finds is rather appetising.

He circles her, sniffing about for more in her many bags as she obligingly freezes, but comes up empty. Hashirama can _smell_ more, but it's not worth frightening her to retrieve it.

Instead, he turns to trundle away towards the kitchens, pausing for a moment to see if she'll follow.

As soon as the creature does a lap around her, he starts lumbering away, pausing after a few steps. Tobira blinks, because it seems the animal was simply _hungry_ , fortunately.

It makes a snuffling sort of grunt, and Tobira huffs out a little laugh at herself. Now she _knows_ she's projecting, but the story is still buzzing around in her head.

However, now that she's _here_ , has seen the 'beast', she can't just leave it. Curious, she takes a step forward, encouraged when the animal simply snorts and continues walking forward.

Tobira perks up. This could be very promising. The longer the creature walks, the more Tobira thinks on the story she read, and the more and more she finds herself thinking of the animal in a very _human_ way.

It's a very dangerous path to go down, and as she follows the creature into the kitchen, she forcefully reminds herself that it's only _natural_ the hungry animal would know where the food is stored.

Hashirama means to lead her to the larder where she will find cold meats, cheese and bread to feed herself, and _he_ will be able to dig into a recent kill. He is also considering helping himself to nuts, berries and roots that are typically forbidden to him because they're for his wardens.

Which is why, upon nudging the door open and finding the kitchen table laden with food, Hashirama can't help but step back with a growl. His hackles leap to attention, and he slinks slowly toward the gutted doe obviously intended for him.

When he makes to pull it from the table, it becomes obvious that he will be eating _here_ —the carcass sticks fast. He briefly considers leaving but knows better than to attempt it.

Hashirama pays the woman no more attention than the tip of his ear, focusing instead on his meal. It's only once he's eaten that he lifts his head and turns his eyes to her.

Or rather, to the bowl of fruits and berries at her side.

She tenses when he moves towards her, hands fisted around her cutlery as he licks up sweeter treats from a bowl well within lunging range of her.

Watching the creature move is fascinating, and she gets a bit too absorbed in her thinking because she startles as it rears up and growls before entering the room. After a few seconds, she follows.

It seems odd to her that the table would have so much food on it, especially given how hungry the creature acted earlier.

 _Perhaps this castle has some magic in it, after all_.

That, or Tobira is seeing what she wants to see, given how the creature doesn’t touch anything aside from the freshly killed deer. And he’s even sitting at the table, too.

Tobira can’t resist the spread of food in front of her, but she can’t say what it all tastes like because she’s too busy staring at the beast, at how he licks his chops and cleans his teeth.

The moment he starts towards her with a laser focus she’s on edge, but he simply stuffs his big snout into the bowl of berries. As it becomes apparent that eating the berries is _all_ he wants to do, Tobira relaxes and huffs out a small laugh at how ridiculous the beast looks, maw stained even darker with berry juice.

Tobira mourns the loss of _all_ the berries in the bowl, but she’s not about to fight an animal over food. She’s a bit smarter than that. But she is incredibly curious.

So when he sits back on his haunches as he cleans his muzzle, Tobira attempts to speak to it again as she sets down her silverware slowly—but she keeps her hand loosely around them, just in case.

“You were just hungry, huh. _Not_ an aggressive monster at all.”

Hashirama flicks a glance at her before his eyes stray to her plate. His nose twitches when he finds _mushrooms_ , grilled in butter, well within reach. His ears flick, and Hashirama is so deeply tempted—

But he knows better than to push his luck and turns away instead, nipping at an itch on his thigh before returning to the bones of his meal. Hashirama is well aware of how frightening snapping bones are, but perhaps if he can scare her into backing off, she will leave and things will be...normal, again.

They snap. And splinter easily under his chewing, and her wary stare is just as much a reward as the soft marrow inside. Only once there's nothing but shards left does he lie down on the floor to watch her.

_He reacts just like a dog_ , Tobira thinks, and true to form the beast stares at her pitifully from where he’s laid down on the floor.

Tobira never could resist begging. It’s one of the reasons she never got a dog herself, despite many of her friends wanting her to have a companion when she goes off debunking myths.

It’s almost _too_ easy to find out what on her plate caught the beast’s attention, and she hurriedly finishes off the rest of the plate, leaving the mushrooms. It’s a strange thing to want, but as far as Tobira can tell not something that would harm the beast. The berries would be more likely than some mushrooms.

The full weight of that brown stare falls on her as she gently stands up with the plate, and she watches with amusement as feet and fur and ears shift in contained excitement as she steps closer. He must be trained.

 _Or is a human stuck as a beast_ , her mind supplies.

Or that, but for now, she’ll work on their little bond, the trust between them. If she’s lucky then she won’t have to worry about being attacked further as she explores into the crevices of the castle.

Upon getting closer, she takes note of all the little details she couldn’t before, up to and including the rather large hands that looked like they might be able to circle completely around her waist—

Tobira gives herself a mental shake. She would have noticed if a beast _this_ large was on that balcony with her.

Hashirama watches as the girl, as the _mushrooms_ come closer. He licks his lips, already drooling at the thought of something, his _favourite_ something, comes closer and he starts to vibrate with excitement.

She steps closer, the plate tips down, and Hashirama...loses control. Suddenly she's too close, that's _his_ food, and he lunges. The mushrooms are in his mouth before the plate hits the ground, and his chops brush soft fingers.

Her high squeal scares him up out of the corner and across the room, hackles up and teeth bared at her. He's still licking the taste of mushrooms off his teeth as he watches her shake.

The wet patch, though small, gives away just how much of a fright she's gotten. The bitterness of fear tickles his nose and makes his muzzle wrinkling.

His tail comes up, his ears come forward and Hashirama has to stiffen his legs to stop himself from pursuing _weakness_.

_Okay, not a dog_ , Tobira thinks hysterically as she grips the front of her shirt. Food aggression is something she _probably_ should have accounted for, but hadn’t because of the lack of it earlier.

And now she needs to change, but loathe as she is to leave the beast to his own devices, she definitely does _not_ want to change in front of him. Already his body language has gone back to hostile, and perhaps she’ll just...go.

The beast stays still, watching her, as she slowly makes her way back towards her back by the table, never putting her back to it. It’s a tense few moments as Tobira realizes the door is closer to the beast than to her.

Looking around, she slowly makes her way around to the kitchen, putting not only the table but the counter between them. Hastily, she unbuttons her shorts, unwilling to take her eyes off the beast as she fumbles around for her extra panties and shorts in her bag.

The new shorts get stuck on her boots as she goes to put them on and she silently curses under her breath and looks down to help untangle her foot. The moment feels like forever, staring down and balancing on one foot. Her heart rate skyrockets as she hears movement and looks up just as she _yanks_ her shorts free and all the way on.

Hashirama clears the table in one fluid jump, unable to resist pursuing the inattentiveness. It's almost as though someone else, some _thing_ else, is pulling the strings.

She's beautiful, bent over like this, milky thighs slightly parted and a generous backside accentuated by the pink cut of her underthings. Hashirama can feel the desire pooling in his belly, the tension of his swelling cock in his sheath.

He's so hyper focused that, for the first time, he doesn't even register the pull and sting of a spell. All of his attention is devoted to the female presenting to him, to the plush folds he can see between her legs.

 _Will it really matter_ , comes the faint question, and he knows then that whether it makes a difference is irrelevant. Hashirama has been denied, Hashirama _wants_ , and Hashirama’s going to _take_. **Now**.

Knocking her over is an almost absent bat of his hand, unbalanced as she still is once she looks up at him. She manages to catch herself with her hands and knees, and it's _perfect_.

The pants are something of a problem, but once he's grabbed them she's all too eager to slip them off in an attempt to escape. Once they're out of the way and she's trying to get to her feet, he mounts her.

The bang of the door is ignored, as well as the crackle and burn of magic along his back. Hashirama is far too focused on nipping his mate, making sure she knows to _hold still_ while he's prodding searchingly.

She's a little short, a little small, and Hashirama has to contort somewhat to get his fangs around her neck to hold her still while the point of his cock seeks out her pussy. Finally he finds wet, hot lips that give into his searching, and the rest of his member is quick to emerge when the rim of his sheath kisses her entrance in affirmation.

Hashirama hardly spares Madara and Izuna a glance, concentrating as he is on getting his bitch to open her pussy to him. He licks at the back of her neck as he begins to hump her, growling at the shadows around his peripherals.

She's _glorious_ on him, and Hashirama knows by the tingle in his balls and the still sheathed knot that he won't be able to mate for long. So he will have to make it count.

His hips twitch and jerk as he tries to get more of his length into her wetness, and the tug of gravity on balls that are suddenly uncomfortably full is enough to make him pant and drool.

At last his cockhead squeezes in, and a gentle tug affirms that his fleshy, flared head is going to _keep_ him inside her. Hashirama hunches his lower back, and begins to force his shaft in with short, sharp jerks, groaning as she catches at his ridges.

* * *

When Izuna’s magic crackled, warning them of Hashirama's strange behavior, Madara wasn’t expecting _this_.

Madara raises her hands again to cast another burning spell towards that _brute_ when Izuna’s hands clamp over hers. Feeling mildly betrayed, she looks towards her sister only to see Izuna’s attention focused solely on Hashirama.

“Look, sister.” Izuna whispers, and Madara forces down her anger to do so.

And her sister has a point, because Hashirama’s jaw is clamped right around the lady’s neck, forcing her to bare it and tilt her head to not get crushed. The growl only reinforces the idea that Hashirama has fully lost himself in his animal side.

Sighing, Madara lowers her hands and crosses her arms. She doesn’t like this, not one bit. Humming, Izuna moves behind her and Madara tilts her head at her little sister. Not so sneaky hands slide up her sides and underneath her arms to cup her tits. Madara makes a quiet, questioning noise.

“Look at how our little toys _fuck_.”

 _Ah_ , Madara huffs a little, always Izuna with her strange voyeuristic tendencies. She’ll need to tie Izuna’s fingers together after this so she doesn’t provoke Hashirama to do it again.

Tobira’s pulse is terribly loud in her head, each beat _whooshing_ with a ferocity as sharp fangs catch her throat and hold. The growl the beast makes even louder and she’s forced to accept that she’s about to lose her virginity to a _beast_ when something hard and pointy catches on her folds.

The feeling of long fur on her only makes it all feel that much more surreal. The feeling of drool sliding down her neck to drop onto the floor beneath her tells her it’s real.

The deep _ache_ when that cock finally enters her tells her it’s **very** real.

All she can do now is ride the choppy thrusts with her eyes closed. This, this is a cock of a _monster_ and there feels to be no end as each thrust just fucks another ridge into her. But eventually they stop, long enough for Tobira to gasp a few handfuls of breath at the stretch.

And then there’s one more, brutal thrust.

Tobira cries out.

Hashirama moans long and low as he feels the warmth of her stretched passage kiss the beginnings of his knot. His lids flutter closed in bliss at the tight wetness of it, the woman's voice like hands caressing his fur as he stills for a moment.

It won't be long now; his perineum is already pulsing with the need to knot and _breed_ , and his cock twitches and jerks. He's broken her hymen, it must be her hymen, at last. Now he can begin the mating propper.

Except, when he goes to pull back, her passage catches around his cockhead, clamping and squeezing just under the flared edge as she whimpers. Hashirama grunts in surprise at the sensation of fluttering along his length and the sharper pressure, but it's no less enjoyable and he's too far gone to stop himself now.

His attention turns instead to knotting his bitch, and he begins to hump her with short, rough thrusts that rock his knot into her a little at a time. Hashirama whines with the absolute pleasure of it, panting as he feels his sac begin to tense and draw up.

 _I'm going to pup you_ , he thinks deliriously at her, rutting faster and faster as he struggles to get her passed the middle of his knot. He needs this, needs to tie het, needs his mate to swell with her breeding.

At last he slips in the rest of his tie, growling as she squeals and jerks under him. It's _glorious_ , the way her entrance sucks him right up until her swollen pussy lips wrap around his base and kiss the extended ring of his sheath.

Hashirama feels the release surging, tugging at his belly and swelling in his nethers. His knot pulses, ballooning inside her and locking them together.

He licks his mate as he swells inside her, twitching as his member begins to pulse with his cresting orgasm. Hashirama thinks it can't get any better; and then she starts clamping down on him.

He yips as he begins to come, huffing soft whines as his member pulses with each jet of his peak inside her, perineum twitching and pulling as he fills his mate. She flutters and squeezes him, milking him for more as she lets out short, high noises.

Once she's settled, and her peak seems to ebb, she falls limp in his jaws with a sigh, slumping as her hips are held up by their tie. He eases them a little lower, content to rest and pant, jaws releasing to nip gentle marks of affection onto any exposed, soft skin.

He tucks her carefully under his body, hands folding in to hide her from view with the intention of resting here with her as his seed trickles into her belly; until he's reminded of Madara and Izuna.

He's quick to grab his mate by her scruff, picking her up and letting her dangle from his knot as he walks quickly but gingerly up to his den in the western tower.

He's worked another small orgasm out of her bouncing tug on his cock, and when they reach his pile of furs and fabrics, Hashirama is trembling with wonderful overstimulation.

He settles them on their sides, nosing her to tuck her up against his belly and closes his eyes to rest as he feels his seed fill her.

“Naughty, naughty.” Izuna tuts, watching as that long tail disappears around the corner.

“Like a dog attempting to hide a bone it knows will be taken away.” Madara agrees. “Come, let’s take care of _you_ now. He’s not going to eat her if we look away.”

Izuna giggles as her sister _finally_ returns some of her flirting. “Say, how hard do you think it would be to—”

“No.”

Izuna pouts as she’s lifted to sit on the cleared table. Sometimes she forgets how much Madara loves kids. It isn't as though the possibility for the woman to _already_ get pregnant is zero. What's a little harm in magically raising the odds? Izuna thinks it would be a fun new twist to the game, to pull a _pregnant_ woman from Hashirama's side.

Madara’s hands sneak up her robes and Izuna sighs, spreading her legs wider to accommodate.

* * *

Tobira can only focus on the burning, _filling_ sensations inside her. By the time she’s aware there’s solid ground underneath her again, she’s too exhausted to do more than pant. Pain radiates from the littering of smaller bites all around her neck and shoulders—not to mention the aching, deep one where she’s spread open on her first cock.

After she’s manhandled into _cuddling_ with the beast, his big breaths tickling the top of her head, she can do nothing but think as she’s _literally_ stuck.

The deep feeling, the deep _ache_ as she’s undoubtedly filled to the brim and then some with hot, sticky seed isn’t—isn’t _unpleasant_. The thought causes her to blush and she clenches unconsciously, which only serves to make her more aware of the cock stuffed inside her.

 _That_ gets her a rumbling sort of growl, more a purr than a sound of aggression and Tobira only squeaks as a long, wet tongue laps along the side of her face and neck.

 _Oh no_ , Tobira thinks as she squirms and feels herself flutter around the beast, _I **like** this_.

Once Hashirama has lavished his mate in attention, he turns to their tie, lifting a leg and ducking his head to lick at her inflamed entrance, tasting for blood. He finds none, which his hindbrain tells him is very good because it means she can accommodate his pups, and takes her fluttering as encouragement. He licks until his mate is shaking and whining with pleasure, until her rippling clamping assures him he's brought her pleasure enough to make sure his seed will take.

Once she's twitching and trembling, Hashirama gently drags her up onto his belly, and rolls them over. He licks at his mating marks, gentle and soothing, until his body relaxes. He yawns hugely, nudges his mate into the warmth of his belly, and lowers his head to sleep.

It takes some time for his knot to come down, and he stirs to wakefulness as it pops out, followed by a slew of his seed and her juices to stain his bed with the sight and scent of their mating. Hashirama sniffs at her puffy, swollen slit, gives her a few cleaning licks, and shifts to rest his muzzle between her breasts, tucking his nose against her jaw to enjoy her soft, warm scent.

Sleep comes easy to Tobira after another orgasm washes over her, courtesy of the beast’s tongue. When she next wakes up, she believes it all to be a dream, that she’s just fallen asleep by the fire and on the couch and her late-night reading really kickstarted her weirdly erotic dream.

The heavy sensation on her chest is what really wakes her up. That, and the feeling of air rushing over her rhythmically. Blinking her eyes open, all she can do is tense up and stare at the big, animalistic face nestled between her tits.

The beast growls as it opens its eyes and stares at her, and she can do nothing as something hot and hard grinds against her bare skin. The growls turn back into that sound from last night, and that mouth opens to reveal all those teeth that worried marks into her skin, to reveal that long tongue that—

Tobira’s breath hitches as that tongue sneaks down her tank top and under her bra to take a swirling lap near her nipple. She’s shaking by the time teeth have tugged her top underneath her tits, all the while those tiny little humps grow stronger and stronger. Shamefully, Tobira allows the movements to spread her legs more.

Hashirama’s mind is somewhat slower to wake then his body, but by the time he's stroking her nipples with long licks, he's well aware of what he's doing. Of what he _has done_.

 _I can stop if she tells me to_ , he reminds himself as he pinches the buds of her gorgeous breast between his teeth. She mewls under him, panting, and Hashirama isn't sure if he _would_ stop.

 _It doesn't really matter in the long run_ , he thinks as he gives her a suckle, rumbling with approval as her legs draw up against his sides. He may as well enjoy her while she's here with him.

But not like this; as much as Hashirama enjoys her glorious tits, he can't mount her like this.

So he sits back up on his haunches, grabs her by the waist and rolls her over. She's quick to get her hands and knees under her, and Hashirama takes a moment to sniff her pucker and nose her pussy.

He's just mounted her, when a sudden and uncontrollable urge grips him. He can't think for a moment to fight it; Hashirama feels his bladder relax, and the burst of hot piss splashes against her pucker and down over her thigh.

Only once he's marked his mate does Hashirama hunch to hump her, dipping his head down to grip the back of her neck as his cockhead kisses her entrance.

Tobira convinces herself that it's not _taking advantage_ of the beast, not if she's not hurting it or coercing it. He's just, _doing what he'd like_ and that just happens to be her. And as rough hand-like paws flip her over and fur tickles her when the beast sniffs her and goes to cover her, she manages to convince herself that she's done nothing wrong.

The feeling of something _wet_ —a _hot_ something wet hitting her in a long, sustained stream causes her mind to blank for a moment. But when it reboots, all she has space for is an incredulous, _did he just piss on me?_

She feels dirty in a way she never has, however before she can roll out from under the beast, he's already lining up and those _teeth_ work their way into her neck. At least it's a slightly gentler hold, for all that they're doing the same thing as yesterday.

The moment that cock sinks into her just the slightest amount, all traces of _gentle_ go out the window. Enthusiastic grunts reach her ears as equally enthusiastic thrusts rock her body.

All she can do is whine as he goes deep, as he itches the scratch that invaded Tobira's thoughts. The rhythmic slapping is more lewd this time, given the sheer amount of piss.

Just like yesterday, Tobira needs no helping hand to cause her to shiver to her finish. The thought that this beast is the only one to have fucked her…

Tobira moans, pussy clenching and leaking.

A moment passes, and then to Tobira's horror, she loses control of her bladder, and with each pull out, a little more dribbles out around that massive cock.

She makes an embarrassed noise as the beast seems to take that as _encouragement_ and has no trouble thrusting deeper and harder until Tobira is experiencing the same deep ache as before, until the wide end of that cock is pressing against her cunt and forcing its way in.

Hashirama gives his mate a deep, happy growl as she trickles her claim over him and licks her enthusiastically in reward. He can feel the pleasure spike far too soon, he doesn't _want_ to finish yet, but the erotic, ecstatic high of her returning his marking is too much.

His knot slips in a little easier this time, and Hashirama devolves into frantic rutting and high keening as they lock together. Her neck is abandoned for licks at her face, and his uncontrollably wagging tail tugs at their joining delightfully.

Only once his balls have stopped tugging with orgasm does Hashirama collapse, slumping onto his side with a deep groan of satisfaction. He nuzzles his mate, licks at her, and reminds himself that she'd have made it known if she wanted him to stop.

The light scuff of a shoe dispels the fatigue in favour of aggression, and Hashirama is quick to cover his mate, tucking her head under his chin as he opens his mouth and snarls at the door.

* * *

“ _My, my, what a truly **terrible** beast_.”

Tobira is _mortified_ as she hears a decidedly feminine voice sound out. Not only is she tucked underneath the animal with piss _everywhere_ , she’s got his _cock_ stuck in her, too. Of all the positions to find herself in. She can do nothing except allow the creature to shuffle her more under him as he growls.

“ _Come now, surely you’ve brutalized the poor lady enough_.”

There’s _two_ of them. Tobira can’t place the language, but clearly whatever they’re saying is irritating the creature. They sound almost _teasing_.

How exactly did she miss two _people_ in her search of the castle? Granted, she didn’t explore the last wing of the upper-most floor, having fallen off the balcony, but _surely_ she would have noticed something.

There’s a loud _thump_ that causes her to get jolted as the creature rears away from something.

“ _You know what always happens, you brute. Enjoy it while you can before she comes crying to us_.”

Some more shuffling and then Tobira finally hears a language she _can_ understand—albeit heavily accented, it is English.

“Do be careful, little lady. One never knows the mind of _beasts_.”

Hashirama snaps instinctively at the thing that comes flying towards him, twisting to get out of the way of—a bag. The woman's bag, by the scent of it, which will make Izuna and Madara perfect heroes in his m—the girl's eyes.

Hashirama doesn't like that they're obviously capable of speaking to her in her own tongue, but fair has never been the way of things. Instead of lingering over it he tries frantically to keep the sisters away from himself, unable to disengage the turgid tie.

It means he inadvertently drags the little woman around as he tries to back away, retreating until the solid castle wall means he can go no further. Hashirama can do nothing but lower his head and snarl at the women approaching, which draws a smirk of dark pleasure on Izuna’s lips.

At last his knot, rapidly shrinking in his aggression, pops free, and Hashirama can abandon the pale woman in the corner and streak towards the other side of the room. He paces, eyes trained on the intruders, watching for any signs of retaliation.

Tobira squeaks in a sort of pleasure-pain and then again in embarrassment as the creature completely disengages, leaving her bare from the waist down and her tits hanging out. In front of _two complete strangers_.

While _it_ might not feel any kind of shame, _she_ certainly does, and she scrambles to set herself straight, unwilling to look up and almost wishing to be back on the pile of fabrics for the ease of covering herself up.

A jacket— _her_ jacket—appears in her peripheral being held up by a gloved hand. An intense feeling of gratitude bubbles up as she covers herself up. She then notices that her bag is on the ground not that far away. Ah, that must have been the noise.

“Thank you—” Tobira cuts herself off as she finally _looks_ at one of the women.

Tall, broad, with curling dark hair falling down. Tobira feels herself clench at the equally dark eyes and blushes when come squishes out of her. A blush forms readily enough as she gets an amused smirk.

“You are welcome.”

Tobira opens her mouth to reply but her attention gets pulled away by the _other_ woman. Thinner, probably a bit shorter than herself, and with hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

“ _Thanks for giving us such a **wonderful** excuse to sweep her off her feet. Hope you liked getting your dick wet, for all that you haven’t in three centuries_.”

The tone makes her brows furrow. The way the beast _cowers_ from the other only makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Something here is very, very wrong. And Tobira doesn’t want to stick around and find out what.

* * *

“Great, now look what you did.”

Madara hums in agreement with Izuna’s statement, watching where the cute little plaything stammered out some excuse about leaving.

A look towards Izuna and she knows her little sister is thinking along similar lines. So Madara doesn’t say another word as she goes to follow their _guest_ and herd her back to the castle. It is getting late, after all. All manner of creatures come out at night.

It takes but a thought to enchant a pack of wolves, and a mere moment longer to have them lift the delightful smell off her glove of their prey. One of the wolves howl, and the others join in the hunting call.

Oh, this is going to be _wonderful_.

Hashirama makes a short, aborted step after the woman who is very obviously, and rightfully, afraid of Izuna. He watches her speed walk down the hall, ears leveling in distress as Madara goes after her. The patter of running feet, the sound of the doors—he knows she's gone.

It’s shockingly difficult to convince his body to return to his bed, where her smell is, and lie down. He can feel his jaw muscles ticking as he clenches his teeth, tail still against the furs.

He forces his eyes away from the door, and turns them to Izuna’s face instead. A smirk twists her lips, and Hashirama’s own curl up to bare his teeth as he gives her a warning growl.

The scrabbles of claws and the yipping of wolves gives away _exactly_ what Madara is up to, but Hashirama’s not giving in. The howling makes him tense, makes his fingers flex to fully extend his claws, but he stays and doesn't look.

A scream of what is doubtlessly unadulterated _fear_ is more than he can handle, and Hashirama abandons the battle of wills for the window, leaping the three stories without a second thought. There's nothing but hard stone in the courtyard, and even the brilliant spark of pain from a dislocated ankle doesn't slow him.

The scent of wolves is easy to track, and the underlying odour of his mate is enough to clear his mind of anything other than to _protect_. The pain of his already healing ankle falls away as the trees blur by, and Hashirama tracks his bitch to an open clearing.

He tackles the closest wolf without thought, swinging his antlers in an attempt to skewer it as he races toward the woman's side. It leaps away at the last moment, but Hashirama has had enough time to put himself between the pack and his mate.

He rears up onto his hind legs and roars fiercely, and while some of the pack scarper, the majority remain.

Tobira doesn’t remember the woods feeling quite like this. The trees seem to grow up and over and cause a bout of claustrophobia to take hold of her. The sky turns dark so fast, Tobira has no idea which way she should be going.

All in all, it’s _terrifying_.

And the sound of growling, the sight of eyes shimmering just in her peripheral sets her heart rate skyrocketing. At the first bark, she lunges away from the sound, huffing and panting as her legs burn from the exertion.

A root trips her and the wind gets knocked out of her as she hits the ground. Another particular vicious growl and Tobira screams as she kicks towards the lunging wolf. Picking herself back up, she continues running.

The clearing she stumbles upon is a blessing, because it gives her a bit more room, a bit more light, and Tobira’s chest _burns_. She isn’t ashamed at all of how yet another pair of her shorts needs to be cleaned.

It takes Tobira longer than necessary to actually _recognize_ the beast from the castle, and by the time she does so she has to duck her head as it roars.

There’s so many wolves, despite how some of them ran away from the clear apex predator in front of them. The wolves circle, and Tobira can’t help but cry out as one snaps at her. The beast is quick to intercept, but even then there’s just one of him, and many more wolves.

One slips in and is able to bite her ankle and yank her off her feet.

“No!”

“ _Switch!_ ”

Tobira squints towards the approaching, almost _blinding_ light of an honest to god actual torch. It’s the same woman from before, and Tobira finds herself clamoring onto her feet quickly as she approaches.

The wolves, it seems, don’t particularly like open flame. The woman shushes her attempts to stammer _something_ out, only hands her the torch to carry as she bends down to carry her.

“Let us return to the castle, the beast can draw them away.”

Tobira can only make a noise of agreement as shock worms its way into her system, causing her to grip the torch harder.

Hashirama can do nothing as Madara sweeps in to play hero and scoops up his mate, too preoccupied with fighting off the remaining wolves. They disperse rather quickly once she's gone, obviously enchanted, and he takes a moment to kill those that are obviously beyond recovering before limping home.

He has to refrain from growling when he finds Madara and Izuna in the foyer hugging his shaking mate and comforting the woman who is clearly in shock. He watches for a moment, fighting the desire to go to her and _provide_ , and walks away.

It’s a long, long walk back to his den, made all the worse by the adrenaline crash. Halfway through and Hashirama is already trembling and walking with his side against the wall, entirely uncaring of the long smear of blood and dirt that he leaves behind.

He collapses onto the edge of his bedding, too tired to do more than rest his head and drink in the scent of his mate. He whines softly, nuzzles the drizzle of her marking, and slips off to sleep.

Izuna sends her sister a chastising look as Madara comes through the front doors carrying their _bleeding_ prize.

“ _Losing your touch, Madara?_ ”

“ _As if. Now she won’t be able to leave as easily_.” Ah, so Madara was simply having a spot of fun. Nothing wrong with endearing themselves further to her. “ _Help me get her changed and cleaned up_.”

Izuna can certainly help with that. Gladly. And now it’s finally _her_ turn to touch all that pale skin, to run her hands over _everything_ —just to make sure there’s nothing else, nothing hidden.

The poor girl’s so deep in her shock she doesn’t realize she’s been stripped, wiped down, and redressed. She simply clings to Madara and then to Izuna as Madara tends to the wound.

At some point Hashirama does trundle his way through, sparing them a lingering glance before moving on. Izuna smirks at that retreating back before turning towards the shaking girl huddled next to her.

* * *

With her injury, Tobira doesn’t dare even _think_ about leaving the relative safety of the castle. She learns that Madara and Izuna are sisters, that Izuna’s English is somewhat broken but more rich in colorful phrases that make Tobira quirk a smile. That they actually _do_ live in this castle, and simply live off the land as best they can. That the beast actually provides some kind of protection against _unfriendlies_.

Tobira doesn’t know what to think of them. They’ve been nothing but sweet on her, almost _too_ flattering. What Tobira _does_ know, is that she wants to get fucked by the beast again. Wants to be pulled under him and licked at enthusiastically and then, then _mounted_ like an animal.

It gets harder and harder to hide those desires every time she hears shuffling, sees some sort of sign that the beast is still around.

The dried blood gets her attention, but Izuna is quick to wave off her concern.

“Ah, from the wolves. Beast had more colors pass over him before.”

“Maybe someone should go check on him.” Tobira eyes the drying trail with suspicion.

“Suit yourself.” Izuna walks off with a shrug, leaving Tobira alone to worry her bottom lip.

After another moment, Tobira follows the trail.

It's gotten warmer as mid-summer creeps up on them, and despite his wounds Hashirama has little thought to spare beyond mating and getting rid of his winter coat. The stress of not being able to return to his mate’s side means he's turned to pulling out his shed in great big tufts and now looks like an ill-shorn sheep.

He's at it again when he hears approaching footsteps, splayed on his belly with his legs stretched out behind him as he yanks at the fur on his chest. He snorts, sneezes as it tickles his nose, and flings the tuft away.

There's a shuffle at the door, and Hashirama turns to growl, deep and angry. There she is; his mate who was all too eager to run to the arms of another. He lowers his head to rumble at her, tail wagging high with aggression.

Tobira shouldn’t be surprised that the beast doesn’t want to see her, but somehow she still finds it in herself to be hurt by it. Shame washes over her just as quickly. However she has to purse her lips to avoid outright _laughing_.

The beast is splayed out on his belly, and there’s fur literally _everywhere_. He looks in desperate need of a brushing. Or a helping hand or two. But she knows she’s not welcome right now, and so turns away, noting the irritating little yips as she does so.

A few moments of digging through her bag and she has her comb in hand. Her own hair isn’t long enough to necessitate a brush but perhaps she’ll be able to help him regardless.

She gets snapped at again when her presence is noticed again, however this time Tobira is determined to get closer and _help_.

And if he really is all animal—as Izuna and Madara have been telling her over and over, perhaps he’ll respond better if she uses more _animalistic_ behavior. Though deep down, Tobira finds herself wanting, _wishing_ that he isn’t as the sisters say.

Getting onto all fours makes Tobira blush, but she continues on, crawling closer to where the beast has fallen silent. Tobira glances up at him quickly and notes the tilted head, the way those brown eyes are staring at her. She averts her eyes just as fast and flattens herself further onto the ground. Her head is now much lower than his, and so she crawls just a little bit closer until she hears him shift around.

Hashirama’s hind brain is deeply pleased to see his bitch come crawling, every inch of her body and posture screaming submission. The rest of his mind is wiser and wary of things that come easily.

He repositions his hind legs under his body, so that he can stand quickly if the need arises. He glances at the comb, one ear flicking forward in surprise. She'll not be capable of much damage with that.

He lets her approach his flank, growling lowly and snapping his jaws when she moves a little too quickly for his liking. She jolts a little, but her motions become slower and smoother, though she remains undeterred.

Her hand on his side is so feather light he likely wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking, and she keeps it steady when he turns to brush his muzzle and curled lips against her forearm.

Long, slender fingers sink into his fur, and Hashirama watches her gently draw furrows in his dense winter coat until a sudden itch on his shoulder demands a nibbling scratch.

Tobira would have to be stupid to miss the inherent warning given to her. She nearly flinches back as the beast shifts to chew an itch on his shoulder. But now that she’s _touching_ , Tobira can’t seem to stop.

The fur is incredibly soft under her fingers, and she realizes that her comb might not actually help all that much, considering just how thick a coat it is. But she’s going to attempt it, anyways.

Her fingers rub the fur together in a spot near her face, and once she thinks she can, she teases out the shed with her comb, only for it to get stuck near the end of it, tugging ever so gently.

The yip causes her to drop the comb, and the beast shifts away from her before she can free the comb from being stuck.

“No, wait, stop—” Tobira scrambles and stretches as the beast shifts even further away from her and she huffs as she _somehow_ gets the comb unstuck, a large clump of fur caught in it.

The beast chews on the spot long enough Tobira thinks about stopping him, but when she moves he growls at her again—or more specifically, the comb she’s holding.

“Fine, fine, no comb.” Tobira sets it on the ground and pushes it back towards the door, well out of arm’s reach.

Then she turns her palms up in apology towards the beast.

Hashirama watches the horrible little torture device slide across the floor. Only once it's well away from him does he let her approach again, eyeing her warily in case she pulls out any other pain implements.

Only once he's certain she'll use nothing but those dainty fingers does he settle down again, resting his head on his hands with a long, low, wavering noise of complaint. She approaches again, and Hashirama can't help the huffing sigh of enjoyment that escapes when she digs her fingers into his coat.

If he didn't have three centuries of practice with his shed, he'd be alarmed by the thick clumps of fur that she pulls out. The woman tugs a little at some of the tangled fur, but leaves it be when Hashirama growls at her pulling.

He finds himself slipping into a doze, content to let her push and pull at his side and up along his back. He even lets her pluck his behind without so much as a glance, eyes trailing after her face as she moves.

He can feel his member twitch with interest, but Hashirama is content to enjoy this for now. He's not stupid enough to invite more trouble.

Tobira loses herself in the repetitive motions of stroking, rubbing, and gently easing fur out. By the time she comes back to it, she’s not only covered in fur, but she’s worked her way all around the beast. Short of his _belly_ —which Tobira is sure he doesn’t want touched—she’s helped pull as much as possible.

There are still amusing little tufts of fur stuck, but she got growled at for them and so she left them well-enough alone.

“Well now,” Tobira starts as she scoots herself around his head, “don’t you look much better?” _While I’m covered in fur_ , Tobira thinks wryly. But it’s well worth it when the beast sighs deeply.

Hashirama is far too high on the pleasure of a gentle touch to think about what he does next. He's mated with this bitch, marked her and seeded her, and she's groomed him in return.

He rolls over and exposes the longer fur of his belly and chest, legs falling open and limp as he reveals himself to her. Soft, tentative fingers run over the trail of his mane, digging in over his pectorals and earning her a deep moaning rumble of appreciation.

Tobira is surprised when the beast simply rolls over, and fond amusement rises up. _Just like a dog_...

She’s even gentler here, avoiding anything that looks tangled and barely pulling at all—more _petting_ than any sort of grooming, and she smiles at the groan of appreciation.

The thicker fur around his neck thins to an even softer fur on his belly, and Tobira can’t help her wandering eyes as she rubs the expanse. Especially not when those strong legs are spread, leaving nothing to the imagination. A little seed of shame flips in her belly, because, above everything else, this is still an _animal_ and she’s getting aroused just by touching _near_ —

A small sound escapes her as she notices that the beast is more than just relaxed. Pointed, red, and unmistakable, Tobira recognizes the tip of his cock, and she bites her lip to keep herself in check.

But she still fidgets as her arousal grows. But she still allows her hands to travel a little further than she should.

The rest of Hashirama is limp and content to be so; his cock is anything but. Hot, turgid and aching with arousal, it stretches his sheath to the point of discomfort.

It doesn't help that he can smell her musk, rich and enticing as it perfumes the air. Hashirama has worked through many knots with his nose pressed against her claim in his bed.

He can't _do_ anything, but he's not going to stop her.

A bold brush against the side of his sheath encourages a few more inches of his length into the open, the fleshy rim of his cockhead easing out makes him whine softly. He can't help but turn to lick at her ankle as she, emboldened by his reaction, strokes a finger from where he disappears into his sheath to his sensitive pointed tip.

Some of his shaft emerges as his cock leaps to meet her, and he can _smell_ her rush of arousal.

The hot swipe of a tongue on her ankle is encouragement, and the resulting twitch of that cock causes her to take a deep breath as a stab of intense _want_ hits her.

Tobira still can’t see his knot, but already he’s so much _bigger_ than what she imagined. Her fingers gently rub up the slick ridges as she remembers just how they feel inside her. Clenching around nothing, she desperately wants _something_ inside her. Preferably this dick in her hand, but she’ll take her own fingers.

It’s out of her intense horniness that she doesn’t think as she strips—her meager clothes were full of fur _anyways_ —and settles back down in just her panties and bra. She can’t force the beast to do anything, but maybe she can entice him to, to do _something_. Lick her, more than likely, given how she doesn’t particularly want to straddle him but perhaps she can just—

Again she bites down on her lip to contain a whimper as a thick, clear drop of fluid beads up at the tip of that cock that she is quick to catch. Tobira can’t help it, she shoves her panties out of the way with her free hand and rubs a finger along her soaking pussy. A quick dip inside to really make sure her finger is coated before she gently, carefully sticks the finger out towards the beast’s muzzle.

That large nose twitches and a broad, long tongue comes out to curl and lap at her finger. Tobira takes a shuddering breath as she pulls her finger back to press two inside of her to offer to the beast again.

Hashirama whines, chasing her fingers and the taste of _female_ that lingers so sweet and musky in his mouth. He nudges her hand aside to sniff at the source, nuzzling into her once her underthings have been pulled obligingly aside.

Hashirama _aches_ to have her, and each swipe of his tongue over her center coaxes more of his cock out as his hips twitch in desperation. His perineum throbs incessantly, forcing a long dribble of his pre-come out onto his belly.

He can't resist laying a paw over her thigh and pulling her up to meet his muzzle as he drives his tongue in with a deep groan. She comes willingly, and Hashirama rewards her with the gentlest scrape of teeth against her clit.

His own hips are twitching and jerking with his lust, and Hashirama is driven half wild by the slow, tight squeeze of his erection unsheathing itself. By the time his knot is beginning to emerge, he's panting and keening, hips jerking and hind legs kicking.

He wants to _mate_ , and the taste of a receptive female is enough to drive him mad. Hashirama _needs_ her, needs to surround his cock with her wet heat, he wants to _breed_ what is _his_ —

She yips at him when he nips her swollen center accidentally, but Hashirama is quick to lick away the pain. He keens when a small, warm hand runs over the underside of his shaft and massages his partiality inflated knot where its beginning to emerge.

He's already so close, and once his peak begins to lap at him Hashirama can do no more than tip his head back to keen as his hips jerk and rut into dainty hands and his knot is finally emerging fully, sheath peeling back over the bulge and then his base.

Tobira can’t help but pant as she’s enthusiastically eaten out. It’s more than she had hoped for and yet isn’t enough to _fully_ satisfy her. She can barely keep up with _returning_ the good feelings to the beast.

Her hands aren’t big enough to do it all, and Tobira doesn’t stop to think, only leans over and takes that delicious looking cockhead into her mouth. Her hands run down the length to massage that knot that had locked them together before so nicely.

Once Tobira starts doing that, she _really_ can’t help but reach one hand lower—and gently prod at those big, furry balls. The sounds coming out of the beast sound almost pained but Tobira knows that the beast would fling her off if she was doing anything he didn’t like. 

And so she continues, pushing herself into that muzzle that’s pressing against her so nicely, into that _tongue_ that’s so deep inside her. She clenches around that long tongue as she comes, twitching more when the beast seems _emboldened_ by that and goes faster, deeper.

There’s the faintest brush of teeth and Tobira can’t help what her body does in overstimulation: she feels herself relax in between clenches enough to start pissing.

Hashirama laps up her mark, whining in short bursts as he's driven far too quickly to peak. The lips around his cockhead, the hand massaging his knot and gently stroking his balls is too much.

Hashirama comes with a howl of pleasure, kicking and keening as his knot swells and his testicles pull closer to twitch and shiver under her hand. He rubs his muzzle against her cunt, mad with scent and orgasm, and lets the pleasure sweep him away.

He can't help the mess, and is powerless to help her as he fills her mouth until she chokes, and then some. The overwhelming flood spills onto his belly, and Hashirama does nothing but pant and lick at his mates thighs.

Despite how Tobira could feel the twitches underneath her hands, she’s still taken aback by the sheer _volume_ that comes shooting out that quickly overflows out of her mouth as she attempts to swallow as much as possible.

After that cock stops spurting, Tobira can only pant and shiver as she catches her breath. The beast is still lapping at her, thankfully on her thighs and not her sensitive, throbbing cunt. But now Tobira doesn’t know what to do with her hands, and the reality of what she just did, what she’s _holding_ sinks in.

She groans softly as she keeps her hands right where they are, staring at the big bulb of that knot and not really understanding how _that_ could have fit inside her. But she's forced to move when she feels the beast start to shift.

Hashirama makes a noise of content and stretches, nibbling at his mate and giving her a parting lick. He can feel himself twitch and jerk a little with residual spasms, and the gentle hands that remain on his tingling, swollen knot make it a little easier to relax into the bliss.

But it doesn't last.

Hashirama is _sticky_ , and he makes a low moan of irritation at the pulling in his fur. He sniffs, sneezes when it draws a tuft of his undercoat into his nostrils. Then he just can't take the pull, and the underlying need to clean wins out.

He moans, rolling onto his side as he lifts a leg to clean his fur and his knotted cock. His mate seems quick to flee him, _but that's to be expected_.

He huffs, licking his belly and his sheath until he tastes cleanliness and his cock slips back into his sheath. He noses himself to make sure he's gotten all of the mess before he rises, turns, and slumps with a sigh.

Hashirama meets her gaze, one ear flicking forward, and lets a low, long sigh blow tufts of his fur towards her. He yips softly and groans softly.

Tobira huffs out a laugh as she watches the beast sigh at her. _Looks like he’s rather content_ , Tobira thinks. But she would rather be clean as well. So before she pulls on her shorts again and heads to the bathroom that miraculously has running water—something Tobira has refrained from asking the sisters about still—Tobira leans forward.

When her outstretched palm is met with a snuffle and a quick lick, Tobira smiles bigger and runs her fingers up the bridge of that nose, ending with some scritches behind those big ears.

“You’re not scary at all right now, huh big guy.” Tobira smiles more as she gets a soft groan and sees a foot inching closer to scratch. “I’ll come visit you more, okay?”

* * *

And Tobira does. She makes a point of going down the hallways and figuring out which giant pile of soft things the beast has flopping into for that day. At first she simply helped more with the fur, slowly working those little tangles out, and perhaps dispensing more belly rubs. But as the days went by Tobira found more and more reasons to go back, and not just because she always needed to take a shower afterwards.

The beast always seems so _happy_ to see her. It makes going back again and again easier, and after a few days Tobira starts bringing berries and fruit, wondering if she could get him to not snap so much as he had with the mushroom. It’s marginally successful and Tobira has taken to lightly tossing the treats to him.

Madara always seems amused whenever Tobira excuses herself to go see the beast, but Izuna...Izuna starts growing _annoyed_.

“Am coming with, today.” Izuna never asks, and Tobira rolls her eyes but accepts her stormy companion.

She _had_ wanted to see if she could get the beast to mount her again, but with Izuna here, she’ll just have to wait.

Hashirama flicks an ear to the little snaps he's come to associate the woman with, but doesn't turn. He's found a wonderful spot to lounge in one of the parlours, where his pile of cushions has been warmed by the morning sun but is now in the shade.

He's still mostly asleep when the gentle and now familiar hand of his mate comes to stroke his head and rub at his cheek, and he huffs a gentle puff of enjoyment and greeting. His tail gives her a few slow wags, and Hashirama opens his eyes—

And roars in fright when he finds Izuna standing over him, bolting to his feet with a short spray of piss as he forgets himself in his shock. He snarls at her, hackles up in an instant and tail lifted high. Izuna does no more than scoff.

" _And there is the reason we stay; you are no more than an animal, and you will never find anyone who is willing to consider falling in love with an animal like_ you."

Hashirama glances at his mate, who is flat against the wall, well out of reach, and trembling. His muzzle relaxes, lips falling over his teeth; but when he makes to approach her, she lets out a small whimper.

Hashirama doesn't need to see the tears on her face to know that Izuna is right. He's frightened her with nothing more than a reaction, and that burns just as deep as Izuna’s words.

He knows better than to linger, and instead turns away to slink into the shadows of the hall where he belongs.

The fear bleeds out of Tobira so fast it leaves her dizzy as she watches the beast leave. Confusion takes its place. Tobira doesn’t understand exactly what happened, everything was fine until the beast opened his eyes, and then—then _Izuna_ said something sharp in that foreign language of hers to stop the aggression.

Tobira watches as the thin woman crosses her arms radiating smugness.

“Never trust beasts to not be beasts.” Izuna says, scoffing as she kicks the soiled blanket.

Tobira frowns as she watches the tip of that dragging tail turn the corner. Even beasts and animals act out in fear. If Izuna and Madara really have been here for any amount of time, perhaps they decided that having the beast fear _them_ was safer than gaining its trust.

The realization doesn’t feel good in any way, and Tobira worries her lip as she doesn’t so much as catch a glimpse of the beast for the rest of the day.

That worry quickly turns into distress as Tobira spends the next several days without seeing hide nor hair of him. Izuna’s increasingly sour words to her about the beast simply means Tobira attempts to avoid the woman more. In fact, she’s all but moved her stuff out of the room the sisters provided her and back into the library.

She knows she could just _leave_ and be done with all of this, but Tobira feels sorry for the beast, only having the company of the other two women who treat him like some sort of rabid dog.

Another day passes and the idea hits Tobira like a bolt of lightning. She’s quick to look in the kitchen for the mushrooms, and laden down with an armful, she hopes he visits the large pile of fabrics soon. If not, she’s patient.


	2. Chapter 2

Hashirama has been spending much of his time outside in the woods and on the roof. It's his most surefire way of avoiding Izuna and clearing his head, and he's had time to indulge in some hunting to bury the sensitive, human, part of himself.

Now he wants to return to his den; there's a light summer drizzle falling and Hashirama isn't willing to be steadily soaked to the bone. He also doesn't want the sisters seeing him in person, so he scales the castle wall to his tower instead of using any of the doors.

He heaves himself up onto the balcony and wriggles in through a broken stained glass panel—

Only to find his den occupied.

Hashirama immediately flattens himself to the floor. He creeps forward slowly, sniffing, and recognises _mate scent_. But mate scent could also mean trap, and the alluring smell of mushroom does nothing to convince him otherwise.

The bundle in his den stirs, and a pale face surrounded by a halo of dandelion fluff pops out. He cant help the lopsided smile that flashes over his face for a moment, but ultimately Hashirama comes no closer and remains on his belly.

Tobira waits. And waits. And waits.

Eventually she winds up falling asleep, and upon waking up in the middle of the night, mushrooms all askew but all accounted for, she sighs and moves onto the pile of blankets instead of the floor.

It's only after she's made herself comfortable that she realizes _she's in the beast's home_. Which means he could come and sniff her out at any moment. The thought gets her wetter than it should, and she moans as she wriggles her way out of her shorts, panting as images of a hot and heavy cock flit through her mind.

The days pass like this: Tobira wakes, waits, tends to her personal business quickly, waits more, and spends her nights underneath scraps of curtains and blankets and sheets moaning and squirting.

Until one morning there's a faint brush of noise, a faint tinkle and crunch of glass. Tobira shifts around to pop her head out to see the beast. Low to the ground, head tilted, but not coming any closer.

Tobira smiles warmly at the beast, happy to see that at least he's not injured—at least physically. Her stash of mushrooms is well within reach and she gently tosses one at the beast. It rolls to a stop a few inches in front of the beast.

"It's been a while, huh? I missed seeing you." Tobira knows that the beast probably _can't_ understand her, but perhaps he can understand her tone, which Tobira pitches low and warm.

Hashirama sniffs the mushroom, licks it, and snaps it up. He can see _more_ of them, a short crawl away, scattered about in his bedding. He follows them, nose first, licking them up as he goes, until he's lying mostly on his bedding and is sniffing at the one resting against soft, pale skin.

Hashirama whines softly, eyes on the mushroom trapped between the swell of her breasts. Which he's only now realising are entirely _bare_. He whuffs at her, and shuffles the last little bit closer to lick up between the fullness of her breasts.

The mushroom is just a small bonus, alongside the salt of her skin and the taste of spent arousal.

Tobira chuckles as the beast follows the trail of mushrooms and plucks one from right next to her to place between her tits. It's entirely rewarding to have the beast lick up his treat. Tobira hums and gently reaches out to pet and scratch between his eyes.

"I've been waiting for you."

Her words make him whine, and Tobira can see his tail start to twitch.

"You're a , aren't you?" Tobira smiles bigger now, her other hand coming up to scratch that throat as the beast crawls more on top of her.

Her giggles send that tail wagging, and a long tongue swipes at her face. Tobira feels a spike of want hit her as she opens her mouth for that long tongue to explore.

Hashirama pulls back for a moment in surprise at her boldness. It's been centuries since he's been kissed, since kisses that he could provide were _welcome_ , and it shocks him somewhat that this woman is so brazen.

She flushes beautifully when he looks down at her with his ears perked attentively, cheeks turning a beautiful rosey pink as he looks on. Hashirama gives her a smile, gentle and soft in a way he's not been in so long, and moves to settle over her.

Her legs spread for him, bracketing his chest with the soft swell of her thighs. He rumbles approvingly and slowly brings their lips together.

His tail wags as she welcomes him, soft, bitten lips meeting his and parting to bid him entry. Kissing is...odd, though Hashirama can't compare it to his experience as a man, because he has only vague recollections.

His tongue emerges, more gentle and explorative than aggressive licking. He tries to be more attentive about where his teeth go, but can't help the brush of them when slender fingers dig into the fur of his chest and rub over his pectorals.

Tobira isn’t sure if she’s just projecting, but the way the beast slows down, _looks_ at her before lowering himself down onto her…

It feels _intimate_.

Especially the way the beast presses his muzzle against her lips, the way that tongue seems controlled as it enters her mouth to brush against hers.

She can’t _help_ but react as she does, and perhaps some of her feelings stem from the fact this ‘beast’ had her first time, has shown her pleasures that she hasn’t ever fully explored before.

And she wants more. Arching herself up into that solid weight of muscle and fur only causes her to moan as the fur rubs against her skin. It’s in the rumble of the beast that makes her _whine_ as she feels the sound against her chest and belly. But she keeps the press of her lips light, welcoming as the beast’s tongue curls around hers.

The heft of that sheathed cock and balls rub against her as the beast’s hips thrust instinctually. Tobira is more than willing to play with instincts. Pressing more kisses along the side of his muzzle, Tobira wriggles around until she can flip over onto her stomach.

Hashirama purrs with approval as his mate rolls all too willingly to be mounted, rumbling as she arches back into him and teases his sheath with the soft backs of her thighs. It's heavenly, to have a willing body, an _eager_ body, that rolls for him.

He pants as he tucks his hips in and makes art of his leaking lust on the pale canvas of her ass. It's obvious that she came expressly to seek him out, written in the lingering scent of her desire that permeates from his bedding and the white streaks of her pleasure decorating the fabrics.

Hashirama rewards her with his undivided attention, senses trained on pleasing his bitch rather than satisfying his animal instincts. He teases her entrance with his cockhead, spreads her open slowly and licks at her shoulders when she whines and mewls for him.

His mate cries out high and sharp as he slowly pushes inside, and Hashirama groans at the tight squeeze of her insides as they grip him. He halts for a moment, nipping her neck rather than holding, and begins to rock his length into her once her breathing has evened some.

It’s much slower than his previous frantic rutting, far more gentle as he seeks out her every pleasurable nook and cranny. He gifts her with short, rumbling huffs of approval, and rubs welcomingly at the hand that comes up to clutch at his cheek and muzzle.

Tobira is _enjoying_ this. It has a markedly different feel to it than the frantic times before, but the deep ache is still there, the way the beast’s fur tickles her dipped back—

Shivering, she pushes back to meet those languid thrusts. She knows that he pushes into her cervix, there’s no way for all of him to fit in otherwise, and the same, almost painful feeling as he slowly squeezes that flared cockhead into her womb causes her to groan and pat his cheek for a job well done.

The swish of his tail is barely audible over the happy whuffs and pants right in her ear, however Tobira can feel the bedding shift with the wagging.

And then he makes to pull out, but only manages to tug where he’s caught deep inside her. Tobira moans, canting her hips back as she clenches and piss starts dribbling out of her.

Hashirama dips his head to rub his chin over her mussed short hair as she marks him, making short noises of happy affirmation. His knot pulses inside her, and he can feel the liquid movement of his seed against his cockhead where her womb traps it inside.

It’s a little easier to relax, now that he knows she is here because she wants to be. He won't go so far as to say she's made her choice, and he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but this feels...good.

He tugs her back by the knot a little, nuzzling her when she moans and presses her hand to the gentle swell of her belly, and arranges then more comfortably among the bedding.

He licks her neck and the sides of her throat. She moans again and tips her head up for a kiss that Hashirama is all too willing to give. He dips his head and finds her tits smeared generously with what must be crushed blueberries, and licks away at the smears avidly until she's clean.

He hides a grin behind her back when she licks her lips and reaches for one of the many books Hashirama leaves scattered about.

* * *

Tobira hasn’t touched more than the fabrics themselves during her stay, for fear of angering the beast if he didn’t like his stuff being touched. But in the afterglow, in their _post-coital cuddling_ , Tobira is able to get her fingers around one of the books she’s seen.

She’s happily full, her stomach slightly distended with both come and cock. As she opens the book, she makes a small noise of interest. It’s in French, but Tobira is too comfortable to attempt to search for another.

There’s a long sigh that ruffles her hair before the beast is hooking his head over her shoulder, licking his muzzle.

“Are you interested in reading too, _mon bête_ , or did you simply grab the books because you liked the way they looked and wanted them in your nest?” Tobira places a soft kiss on the side of his cheek before turning back to the book, chuckling at the way his tail wags from where it’s lying by their legs and feet.

The beast gives her a rumbling groan in answer as he resettles his head on her shoulder.

Hashirama sighs with satisfaction as his cock slowly begins to soften, eyes automatically dipping down to read over his mates shoulder. 'My beast', she had called him, and the thought of it is comforting.

They've mated—repeatedly, and marked each other. The memory of it makes his cock twinge with interest, and Hashirama has to forcibly relax himself.

He slips out with a soft, wet sucking sound, huffing with content as he shuffles off her to rest at her side and read lazily.

Tobira won’t lie to herself and say she _wants_ the beast off her back and out of her. Already she’s feeling the pleasant ache between her legs and she has half a mind to prop her hips back up and wiggle her ass to see if he wants to fuck her again. Not to mention the fact he was keeping her back warm.

But now, with him lying _next_ to her rather than resting atop her, she giggles at his noises. All curled up as he is, it’s hard to think of the creature as anything _but_ a charming, handsome animal. Tobira strokes a hand across his fur, idly playing with the softness as she continues to read. Sometimes his big breaths flip the pages back, causing Tobira to grow more and more distracted.

The breaths eventually stop happening, and when Tobira realizes and looks over, she finds the beast asleep. So she gives him a few pats before taking her hand away—she needs to find another book, and with the beast asleep, she can take her time finding one, perhaps one in _English_.

Staying quiet is easy for Tobira, however she makes a soft sound of intrigue when she finds an old, leatherbound _journal_ with yellowing pages. Delicately, Tobira flips the journal over and opens it, mourning the loss as the words are definitely not in a language she can understand. But the individual letters Tobira can identify, and she gingerly turns to the first page.

“Hashirama…” Tobira quietly reads off the scrawled name.

There's a soft little noise that catches Hashirama’s attention from where he's been drifting towards sleep. His ear flicks absently, tracking the rustle of pages and the creak of book bindings.

"Hashirama."

He almost doesn't recognise the name— _his name_ —and it takes a little while for it to trickle through to his brain. He opens his eyes, mildly curious as to who could be speaking to him, and where they got his name—

Only to see _his journal_ held by dainty white fingers. He panics, rushing to his feet and grabbing his mate by the leg to wrench her _away_ from the last vestige of his humanity.

She lands with a thump on one of the denser carpets, tossed across the room by a careless flick of his head. He thinks she may have screamed, but Hashirama can't hear anything over the ringing of fear in his head.

One enormous paw snaps the book closed, trembling feebly with fright as his breath rushes in his lungs in great huffs. He sniffs the book, and looks up to _glare_ at the girl who _dared_.

She's lying with her legs splayed, seed leaking from her center and blood trickling from the punctures his canines have made on her thigh. A lance of regret strikes his belly, twisting at the open _fear_ he reads in her face, but he's not moved.

Hashirama pants as his heart tries to rabbit out of his chest, and he knows at once that this was a mistake. Her seeking him out merely means she wants to fuck a monster, not thar she could love one.

Hashirama snarls and snaps at her, pacing in front of his bedding. She's quick to leave, and he watches her limping run with the dawning weight of loneliness rising in his belly.

He doesn’t linger; stays long enough to hide the book under the mess of furs, blankets, tapestries and curtains before abandoning his nest. The sun has set, and Hashirama whispers through the castle halls and out into the garden.

The stones are where they always were, and Hashirama noses each of them with a low moan of greeting. The names are still legible thanks to his diligent care of the graves, and Hashirama gives them each a gentle kiss before he lies down to keep his betrothed and son company.

* * *

Tobira stops just around the door, unable to continue from the pain lancing up her leg. Not to mention she’s _naked_ and she’s none too eager to have the sisters ogle her again. Listening in, she hears the beast shuffle around and then the tell-tale sign he jumped out the window.

The adrenaline has worn off, and Tobira winces and moves even more gingerly on her way back inside towards her pack. Her hip feels like one big bruise and she’s trailing blood and fluids _everywhere_ , but she takes comfort in the fact that at least she thinks no arteries were hit in her leg.

As she tugs out some clothing with shaking hands, Tobira wants nothing more than to just lay down and _sleep_ however she needs to bandage her leg, needs to get clean. So she begins the long journey to the bathroom, thinking the whole way.

The beast didn’t seem to mind her touching the other books in the nest, so what made _that_ one so important? Enough so that he felt the need to protect it? It’s as though he acted like a teenage girl protecting her diary!

Tobira pauses as she lowers herself onto a chair in the bathroom. That...can’t be true. But the more Tobira thinks about it, the more she realizes that the behavior _does_ fit.

Tobira isn’t sure whether the sisters have anything _better_ to do than to pop out of the woodwork and stalk her about the castle, but at least she’s dressed when one of them inevitably finds her in the bathroom.

And at least it’s Madara who finds her. Because with Madara, she gets a judgemental eyebrow and a question about her sanity, whereas with Izuna she’d probably come up with fifty different reasons why she shouldn’t come anywhere _near_ ‘that horrible, terrible beast’.

“Do you need any help?”

Tobira opens her mouth and immediately closes it again. The idea of _asking_ if the beast had a name seems silly, and she doesn’t actually feel all that comfortable with the sisters, especially when it comes to the beast.

“No, I’m fine.”

Madara hums. “If you say so. You’ve been here nearly a full month, do let myself or my sister know if you need any cotton.”

It takes longer than Tobira should have liked to understand _that_ and when she does she blushes. “I will, don’t worry.”

With a nod, Madara leaves Tobira alone to her thoughts. Almost a full _month_. As Tobira hobbles her way to get food to bring back to the nest, Tobira does mental math twice to make sure she’s counting correctly. Her period should come in the next couple days.

Tobira isn’t looking forward to having to run to the bathroom every time she gets wet just because she thinks she’s starting to bleed. Especially not when that means less time spent in the nest waiting for the beast to come back so she can ask him if his name _is_ Hashirama.

_Hashirama_ , meanwhile, has a long nap on the well tended moss of the graves before he goes for a long hunt. It helps clear his head, and by the time Hashirama is scaling the side of the castle he's dragging a sizable doe up to his den.

His mate, he finds, has burrowed into his nest. She's still asleep, and Hashirama whines with guilt at the sight of white bandages stained red.

To avoid disturbing his mate, Hashirama lies down with his meal across the room and settles to eat. He tries to keep the sound of his feast quiet, but his mate stirs all the same.

"Hashirama?"

He does his best to ignore her, but his ears tip back and his tail flicks rapidly. He presses his face deeper into the carcass.

" _Hashirama_."

Tobira hums as the beast’s tail wags faster. Even if she is projecting what she wants to see onto him, he _does_ at least seem to respond to ‘Hashirama’ and Tobira needs something to call him.

“Hashirama it is, then.” Tobira murmurs as she sighs and watches him from her comfy position in the nest.

It’s all too easy to assign the avoidant behavior on _guilt_ which is entirely justified, but Tobira wants to pet him, and has already forgiven him despite how she _keeps_ being hurt and terrified of him.

The story she read is an ever-present thought in her mind now. How would _she_ react if she was turned into a beast and then _treated_ as such for however long? It’s sad, really. Both Madara and Izuna don’t think twice about Hashirama, that much is _very_ clear to Tobira.

Her morose thoughts are cut short when Hashirama licks his chops and glances over at where she’s staring at him, quickly turning his gaze elsewhere.

Tobira isn’t going to get up from the nest, not when there’s a bit of dead deer left and especially not with her leg throbbing. Which reminds her she needs to change the bandages on it. Moving slowly, she reaches out towards her bag and grabs another roll of gauze.

As soon as she sits up, she makes a few kissy noises to get Hashirama’s attention—those cute ears flick up at her—and she pats the soft bedding next to her.

Hashirama frowns at her, ears flicking. She wants to kiss him? _Now_? After all that he's done she's still calling him for kisses. His eyes stray to the wound, and guilt flattens Hashirama to the floor.

He crawls over, slow and steady, unsure whether he's misunderstood or she's simply purposely misleading him. He whines softly when he reaches her, slowly edging up to press their lips together, ears tipping back with confusion when she makes a disgusted noise and pushes him away, wiping at her mouth.

_You were the one who wanted a kiss_ , he thinks, making a noise of reproachful complaint. His nose twitches, snout wrinkling at the scent of fresh blood, of his _mate’s blood_.

His attention turns to the bandaged wound, and Hashirama whines when hands push him away again. He watches his mate unwind the gauze, and he's struck with the _need_ to tend to her.

Tobira sputters when she gets a kiss as soon as Hashirama comes up to her. _Gross_. But she scratches behind his ears because he _did_ come over when she called him. And just like a dog, he noses at where she’s bleeding, however Tobira _isn’t_ budging on that. He was just eating a deer! A _raw_ deer! That mouth and tongue isn’t coming anywhere near her wounds!

“No, Hashirama,” Tobira pushes that fuzzy muzzle away from her leg as she unwinds the bandages. Instead, she pats the bedding again for emphasis before continuing.

As soon as she pulls the bandages away completely, Hashirama is there, long tongue curling around the lifted underside. Tobira’s attempts to shove that hot tongue away only leads to her hands getting coated in saliva and an even bigger mess as her leg gets trapped by two big paws.

All Tobira can do is cry out in distress and hold onto those antlers and let Hashirama do what he wants to do. She’ll simply have to wash her leg _thoroughly_ the next time she goes to the bathroom.

Hashirama yips at her, bumping at her belly, and pauses. He sniffs, nuzzles and licks after the sweetness of something wonderful. His tail begins to wag over the floor, and Hashirama whines.

There's something _amazing_ going on with his mate, and he bumps her gently with his nose.

Tobira can’t help the laugh that escapes her when Hashirama’s tongue tickles her belly where her tank top has ridden up.

“Mmm, _what_ , Hashirama?” Tobira asks the great beast teasingly.

That long tail only picks up speed in answer. Tobira shakes her head and kisses Hashirama’s forehead. There’s a distinct feeling of _wet_ between her thighs but Tobira will just pop into the bathroom soon to check. She wants to enjoy the playfulness a bit longer.

* * *

A sort of rhythm starts up in the coming days. Tobira wakes up to Hashirama nosing his way along her body and lapping at her stomach. She spends the morning washing the slobber out of her nicely healing thigh wounds and realizes that it’s been yet _another_ day without her period showing up.

It isn’t that she’s _worried_...yet. She’s been rather stressed the last month and her body has _always_ been one to react negatively to stress. She’ll give it a few more days, perhaps a week. There’s been instances of stress causing her to skip a period entirely. After everything she’s experienced, she wouldn’t be surprised.

Hashirama is waiting for her, curled up on the nest when she comes in with lunch. Tobira laughs at the way a blanket is hanging off of his antlers. Clearly he’s been rolling around in the nest.

He doesn’t accept food from her outstretched hands, not anymore. It confuses her because he _used_ to, and she can see the way he stares at her food. He does, however, chase the taste of the food after she’s finished eating and she has very thorough French kisses after meals.

Izuna narrows her eyes as she watches, as she scours the bathroom and trash cans. Madara may call her crude and nosey, Izuna calls it _being knowledgeable_.

“She _hasn’t_ bled.”

Madara sighs. “Izuna—”

“Do you think she could be?”

Madara falls silent, and that’s answer enough for Izuna.

Her robe flares out behind her large steps as she makes her way over to where she knows Hashirama is rooting about in the garden. Even _his_ animal side is aware of it, then.

Izuna flicks her fingers and causes the soft soil where Hashirama’s digging in to sink a bit more under his weight. The effect is immediate and Hashirama’s growing at her where she’s on the balcony overlooking him.

“Oh hush, you big stupid mutt,” Izuna starts, “I just wanted to _congratulate_ you. Can’t wait to hear the pitter-patter of little paws, huh? Looks like that cock of yours couldn’t resist pumping a baby into the first thing it got stuck in. Good luck with that.”

Izuna laughs at his stricken face, because this is the first time that Hashirama’s actually had sex since with herself and Madara. And he’s gotten their plaything _pregnant_. It’s really quite laughable.

It's fear that chases him up to the den that's now more _theirs_ than his, tail tucked between his legs. _It's happening again_ , is all he can think, mind full of the way Mito _glowed_ with his child before everything went wrong.

The girl whose name he doesn't know and whose womb is now occupied by his monstrous brood is relaxing among the bedding, an open book in her arms. She looks up to frown at him when he scrabbles to a halt, only to pace back and forth, tail against his belly.

She calls him, and he can clearly hear the confusion in her voice when she says his name. She pats the bedding, but Hashirama can't fathom lying down now.

Instead he goes to sniff her belly, taking in what he now realises is the smell of a mate pregnant with his litter. The scent of a woman sentenced to die because Hashirama couldn't stop himself from taking what isn't his.

He slumps into the bedding, sniffling as the tears start to fall, and buries his snout under her arm. He doesn’t want to lose the first good thing that's happened to him in 300 years, not to some malformed creature that is undoubtedly going to be the result of their mating.

Tobira’s heart clenches when the whines start up, and she sets her book down to rub at that snout and up between Hashirama’s wet eyes. There isn’t anything she can think of that would have made him sad.

“Hey now,” Tobira coos as she rubs up where his antlers are and then behind his ears as he snuffles into her side, “There’s nothing to be sad about. Everything’s okay, Hashirama.”

She doesn’t say anything more when it becomes clear that the sadness is going to linger. She simply starts humming and petting him more, trying to help ease his shivers and shakes.

“Oh!” Tobira jolts a little with a sudden thought, and presses a kiss to Hashirama’s snout in apology. “I forgot. I’m not sure if you’d even understand but I have to _try_ —”

Tobira takes a breath and pats Hashirama before motioning to herself. “Hashirama. Tobira.”

And then she smiles at him as he leans his head to drape across her lap and closes his eyes.

“Shh, shh, don’t you worry, Hashirama.”

* * *

The next couple days are strange, and Tobira can’t place what, exactly, is wrong with Hashirama. He seems reluctant to do anything more than _slink around_ in her presence and she barely gets even a _wag_ of that long tail when she pets him.

By this point, Tobira is getting worried for him. She hasn’t seen him eat anything and he staunchly refuses anything she offers to him, even ignoring the _mushrooms_ that she brought up today. An intense cramp finally hits her and Tobira knows without a doubt that she’s about to bleed, and _badly_.

“I’ll leave these here for you, I’ll be right back.” Tobira shuffles through her bag, hunched over as the cramps escalate in intensity.

_It’s always worse when it’s late_ , Tobira grouses as she hurries off to the bathroom. She’s also bloated beyond her typical, and she staunchly refuses to believe she’s gotten _fat_. She groans, rubbing her belly and wishing she had the foresight to pack a hot water bottle with her gear.

She’ll just make one from whatever she can find in the kitchen before going back up to the nest. _Hopefully_ the mushrooms will be gone, at least.

Hashirama knows the moment Tobira—and isn't that a wonderful name—comes back, that she's losing the pups. The undiluted wash of _relief_ that hits him is enough to take his legs out from under him, even as guilt roils in his belly.

She's going to be alright; Tobira's body is rejecting his pup and that's _good_ because she will live. He knows this, and yet it still doesn't conquer the grief at the loss of a potential life, the fruit of their mating.

He lies with her through the pain, licks at the sides of her neck to comfort her, to let her know that he's _right here_ and won't be going anywhere. She seems a little shy about his presence in the lavatory, but that's alright.

At last, when she seems to have come through the worst of the pain, he rises and trots off to fetch her water to drink and a towel to wash away the mess. Hashirama’s not disgusted by her body processes; he's too relieved that he won't be losing a mate to childbirth.

He wouldn't be able to live with himself if Tobira passed the same way Mito did, screaming in agony as his offspring ripped her apart from the inside. He'd be more than willing to risk attacking the sisters, in that case.

She's sweaty when he returns, but her eyes are bright and alert, the deep carmine tracking his every move as he brings the towel and pitcher to her. Hashirama isn't bothered by the thoughtful look, and collapses at her side instead.

Now that he knows their unions bear fruit, he shan't touch her again.

The complete shift in Hashirama’s behavior is baffling, but Tobira is too caught up in her terrible cramps to be anything other than intensely relieved. Hashirama’s almost _too_ cuddly, more than once accidentally setting off a fresh new wave of cramps when he shifts and causes Tobira to move.

And he’s certainly more clingy, following her even to the bathroom, nosing and pawing at the door until Tobira lets him in. It feels awkward, almost like having a pet watch but tinged with more embarrassment because Tobira has started attributing very _human_ traits to Hashirama.

It makes him leaving stand out even more as she lays curled up on the very edge of the nest to mitigate the absolute _flood_ her body’s decided to deal her this month causing such an indescribably mess. And to come back with a pitcher of water and a towel?

There’s no way a mere _animal_ would know to bring those, and no way Tobira could see Madara or Izuna _training_ him to do so, either. Which only leaves the highly improbable scenario similar to the first book she read in this castle.

A man turned into a beast.

The more Tobira thinks about her situation, the less the whole thing feels like a late period and more like a _miscarriage_. It really shouldn’t be possible, and there’s a part of her that scoffs at the mere _thought_ but…

But Hashirama certainly _acted_ like an eager father, nosing at her stomach and letting her eat all the food. And then he acted guilty, acted like he had done something _terrible_. Perhaps he didn’t even realize he _could_ get her pregnant.

Tobira sighs as she overthinks this whole scenario even more. She’s too tired to do anything more than take a drink and then curl up next to Hashirama to stroke his soft fur and fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Tobira groans at the tell-tale squish between her legs that simply means she’s going to have to wash her clothing _again_. Hashirama still trots after her, but Tobira doesn’t care as much now and simply sinks into a hot bath with a sigh. Hashirama lays down right there on the floor, and Tobira plays with his ears as she lets the heat soothe her muscles.

He even trails after her as she goes to the kitchens for breakfast, but slows down, backpedaling with a growl at the noises coming from inside.

“It’s okay, Hashirama, you can wait here.” Tobira scratches between his eyes and holds her hands out when he looks like he’s about to follow her.

Hashirama paces the width of the hallway a couple times with rumbling whines but doesn’t make any more moves to follow her, and so Tobira heads into the kitchen to find Madara and Izuna sitting at the table. Unease lances through her at the way they both _look_ at her.

Tobira ignores the part of her that tells her _not_ to turn her back on them as she goes to grab her usual selection of fruits and mushrooms to bring back to the nest.

“Come eat with us.” Madara’s voice startles Tobira enough that she drops a few blueberries.

“O-oh, no, that’s okay, I’m fine.” Tobira excuses herself quickly, grabbing another couple strawberries before high-tailing it as fast as she can out of the kitchen.

Hashirama darts after his mate, sniffing at her flank when she breaks into a brisk trot. It's no more than a faster walk for him, but all the same he wonders what spooked her so.

They return to the den, and Hashirama can't bear the anxiety any longer. He circles her, sniffing and nuzzling as he whines. When he finds nothing wrong, Hashirama goes to lie down with a long, low moan of complaint.

He tucks his paws away under himself and stares at his mate, ears flopping limply down beside his head. When she doesn't do anything beyond look at him and keep the food over _there_ , he grunts.

Hashirama extends an arm, eyes trained on those of his mate. He pats the bedding and, as she had shown him was allowed, makes the kisses noise at her.

Tobira blinks. She had zoned there for a moment, too intent on getting away from the two sisters and the creepy vibes they gave off. But Hashirama’s actions, the _noises_ —

Giggling, she shakes her head fondly. There’s absolutely _no way_ that Hashirama isn’t a human turned into an animal. To beckon her over in such a way, using her own movements and an approximation of her sounds…

“Alright, alright,” Tobira starts as she makes her way over to him and sits down. “It’s time for breakfast.”

Hashirama stares at her, neglecting the food as Tobira pops a few blueberries into her mouth.

“What?”

Hashirama’s tail wags a bit and he shuffles around on his tucked up paws.

“Ooooh I see,” Tobira teases, “You want a kiss, huh?”

Tobira places a light kiss on the tip of Hashirama’s nose and gets a long tongue swiping up her face. She feels better, having Hashirama near her despite knowing that he’s afraid of the sisters.

It makes Tobira wonder, though. Surely if Hashirama was _human_ human, he wouldn’t be quite so afraid of the sisters. They aren’t _that_ big as to be able to overpower Hashirama.

There must be something else going on.

Hashirama flops onto his side, squirming over to lie next to her and rest his wet nose against her thigh, and gives her a gentle lick. She seems content to eat, and occasionally wave food in front of her face.

He still refuses to risk her fingers to his instincts but he gladly snaps up the food that lands on the blanket. He huffs a deep sigh when she scratches between his ears.

He rolls onto his back to beckon her hands down to her belly, tail wagging expectantly.

Tobira indulges Hashirama’s request. It isn’t hard, not when she loves the feeling of soft fur through her fingers. Especially not when Hashirama acts as he does, whining at her softly and wriggling around like an excitable dog.

Smiling down at Hashirama, Tobira wonders if there’s any way to help turn Hashirama back, like in the story she read. She does have to wonder where that story came from, and who wrote it. It’s not as though Hashirama could have written it, but something in Tobira’s gut tells her she probably _shouldn’t_ ask the sisters about that.

Yet another mystery she needs to untangle.

* * *

“I think she’s onto us.”

“Izuna, you’re always so paranoid—”

“You saw her at breakfast!”

Madara sighs, but is unable to find any comeback for the way her little sister lays out the truth. She lets Izuna rant a while longer, tuning her out with the years of practice she has until Izuna runs out of steam.

“Do you have any ideas, then?” Madara asks.

“We could always get Tobira pregnant again. Hashirama _loved_ that.”

“That could backfire.” Madara also knows that they don't actually know if Tobira _was_ pregnant. Or if she even can get pregnant. Although, Madara supposes that all they would really need to do is simply emulate pregnancy, if their fertility spell doesn't do the trick.

Madara isn’t one to involve children at all—is loath to even _consider_. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Pft, like _you_ have any better ideas. Get Tobira pregnant, drive Hashirama insane, and then we swoop in to console Tobira and offer to get rid of the devil spawn!”

“I guess my lust spells and your fertility spells will be in order.” Madara looks over to see Izuna’s smirk. “The food?”

“The food.”

* * *

Hashirama doesn't know what's going on, and he doesn't like it. Or rather, he likes it, but knows that there's something wrong. His mate is acting odd, and she smells faintly of magic.

He immediately falls to his belly when she walks around the corner, tail tucked between his legs and wagging frantically because it's his _mate_ but there's something not right. He whines at her, slinking away to tuck his head under the library blankets.

Hashirama knows, by way of experience, that magic means trouble and that trouble is usually ten times more troublesome for him. Which is why he is not looking; if he can't see it and doesn’t take part, then he'll stay in the clear.

He's _not_ going to give in, no matter how much he wants to push his backside up into the wonderful fingers digging in near the base of his tail. Hashirama keens with indecision, tail thumping ecstatically against the floor and his legs.

Tobira has been feeling rather _warm_ recently—more aroused than usual. She doesn’t quite know why, but certainly knows that it’s Hashirama at the center of it. He _did_ take her virginity, after all.

The want builds and builds until one day she returns to the nest to find Hashirama attempting to bury his head in the blankets. His antlers prevent him from getting more than his face underneath there, and Tobira can see the way his tag wags furiously tucked up under him.

Humming, she comes upon him and scratches the base of his tail and is rewarded with whines. She squishes herself up against his body and shivers against him because she isn’t wearing any bra, and her nipples are _so_ sensitive.

Squirming against him gets her wet, especially when he rolls onto his side and Tobira can squeeze into the space right by his legs. She takes the time to rub his belly, digging her fingers in to scratch as her breath comes quicker.

She _wants_ , and so she stops to take off her clothes— _all_ of her clothes.

“Come on, Hashirama, you wanted me so badly before,” Tobira coos at him, delighting in the feeling of fur against her naked skin, “I’ll make it good for you.”

Tobira pets that wagging tail, knowing that her hands are just above her prize. But as much as she wants, as she _entices_ , she’s not going to _force_ Hashirama to do anything. She just wants to make it very _very_ clear that she is more than willing.

Hashirama lifts his head and opens an eye to peek at his mate, whining and averting his gaze when he sees she's _naked_. He may not understand what she's saying, but her voice is sweet and cajoling, so it's not too difficult to guess.

The way her hands pet his tail where it hides his sheath is also a dead giveaway. But...Hashirama remembers her miscarriage and the pain it caused her.

Perhaps the fact that she miscarried at all means that she is unable to bear him offspring! Maybe she is _safe_ from him! The thought alone is enough to send his tail flying out to wag behind him, and Hashirama stretches out his legs to grant her access.

He gazes at her (quite mushily, though he does not know it) as she cards her slender fingers through the fur of his belly. It becomes quite apparent to Hashirama just how far he's fallen when the sunshine catches the adorable upturned point of her nose and the fine, fluffy white hairs that hang about her face like the promise of snow around a full moon.

He can't resist leaning up to kiss her as he would were his body that of a man, cupping her face in one paw and bringing their lips together. It's chaste and gentle, but Hashirama feels all at once like he is lost and returning home.

Tobira indulges in the kiss despite how feverish her body feels. Her Hashirama is a silly beast, but she wouldn’t have him any other way. The realization emboldens her to throw her leg over his stomach, content to ride out the wriggles as Hashirama pushes himself into the pile of blankets so he’s sitting up.

From atop, Tobira hums as she inches her fingers downward to where that pointed, red tip is peeking out from his sheath. She can feel herself getting wet, and the knowledge that she’s getting her slick on his fur is heady. Hashirama whines and licks his chops as she sets about fondling the head of his massive cock, making a pleased noise when more of it gets exposed.

Paws skim up her thighs and Tobira shuffles herself into position so she can feel that delicious cock spreading her open so much, so deep. She can’t help but clench. It’s been decidedly too long, and if Tobira gets her way, she’ll have this cock inside her _every_ night.

“Oh,” Tobira sighs as she takes more of him in, “ _Je t’aime plus chaque jour_.”

_I love you more each day_. She isn’t even sure why she spoke French, why the thought even slipped past her lips but now that it’s said aloud, regardless of whether Hashirama can understand her, she feels lighter. French _is_ the language of love, after all.

So she simply sighs again, running her hands against his furred chest to brace herself as she leans up to give him another kiss.

As much as Hashirama doesn't want to ruin this moment by crying, the tears come all the same. He wants to tell her _so badly_ that her love is returned, that he will not leave her or falter in his devotion; but Hashirama doesn't know if— _if_ the spell is broken, whether he will able to speak with the mouth of an animal.

He won't know if he doesn't try.

" _Si eu te iubesc_." His native tongue sounds garbled coming out of this mouth whose teeth are too many and whose tongue is too long, but _I love you too_ is all he would ever want his first words to her to be.

His voice, too, is far deeper than he recalls it to be, rumbling in his chest like summer thunder before it thrums in his throat. He can hardly see through the blur of his tears, but he thinks his mate is staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Hashirama takes a moment to collect himself, tucking his muzzle under her chin and licking his nose clean. He takes a deep breath, and tries another word, careful with every sound.

"Tobira."

Tobira stares as Hashirama nuzzles up underneath her, as he _says her name_. There, there was definitely a spell, otherwise she’s sure that he would have started talking to her earlier. There _has_ to have been.

And he’s _crying_ , too, snot and everything. Which is decidedly not very good, especially because the heat burning underneath her skin is nearing _painful_ and she really wants to feel full as only Hashirama is capable of providing her.

“ _Hashirama_.” Tobira calls back to him, voice full of the raw, desperate need she feels.

Squirming to attempt to give herself some sort of friction, Tobira clenches around his cock, doing anything and everything she can think of to get him to _move_ and help her.

"Oh," he murmurs, rolling the two of them so that she may lie upon the carpeted library floor. The position is somewhat awkward, him being as wide and long as he is, and Hashirama has to half-sit to keep his mane out of her face, but he doesn't want it any other way.

Though he would like nothing more than to make slow, passionate love to her to demonstrate not only that he _can_ , but that he wants more than an animalistic rutting. But it's obvious in the flush of her skin and the plea in her voice that rutting is what she needs now.

So Hashirama complies, using the force of powerful thighs to drive his cock into her, planting his paws down above her shoulders to brace her against him. Her vocal exclamations of pleasure are their own reward, and Hashirama fucks her until she's fluttering and squeezing around him in her climax.

Once she's calmed down some, he stops to nuzzle under her chin, purring affectionately at her listless petting and the glazed look in her eye.

Tobira sighs as the intense wave of desire ebbs. It hasn’t gone away completely, but for now she luxuriates in the feeling of her _lover_ nuzzling her. Luxuriates in the soft fur tickling her as she takes big, steady breaths to calm her racing heart.

Idly, she wonders if Hashirama will turn back into a full human, wonders when that might happen. The knowledge that magic could in any way be _real_ shakes her to the core. Even if Hashirama is a beast, stays a beast forever, he still knows how to _speak_. He has human intelligence, at the very least.

Perhaps it’s sometimes occluded by animal instincts, but Tobira can’t fault him for that.

“You’re such a softie, aren’t you?” Tobira scratches his mane, her breath hitching when his hind leg starts kicking and forcing his cock buried inside her to move.

Shakily, she continues scratching, wriggling as his leg starts up again and creates a new wave of longing. She now knows what she wants, and that’s his _knot_ again. Tobira is fairly sure he can’t understand English, and she’s too worked up to really think how to say things in other languages, so she’ll just have to _show_ him what she wants.

She whines when her wriggling causes his cock to leave her with a wet, lewd sound, and _he_ gives her a grunt when she dislodges his head, but eventually she winds up on her hands and knees underneath him. Or rather her shoulders and knees, because she’s reaching for his cock to pop it back inside her.

Hashirama nips at her back. The cheeky minx has rolled over to present to him, and he knows he won't be able to stop himself from knotting her like this; the position she's chosen wakes something primal and unsuppressable in his brain.

It seems, however, that that is her wish, as an eager hand reaches back to guide him into her. He can't help the few mad thrusts that his hips stutter out when she grasps them, and for the first time Hashirama is able to _moan_ at the wet heat of her around him.

Their hurried lovemaking immediately turns to mating as Hashirama begins to move, thrusting madly and dipping his head to pant over her. His teeth find a fallen cushion and sink in as his need to grab and _hold_ becomes unbearable.

It’s only been five minutes and already the heated rush of orgasm stirs in his belly. Hashirama whines as his rutting becomes short, jabbing thrusts, knot tingling as it begins to swell.

At last he manages to work himself into her, moaning and keening at the sensation of her cunt slowly swallowing his knot. Once she's taken the wide middle, the rest slips in with a wet squelch and her muscles begin to suckle at him.

Hashirama yells as his orgasm claims him, the intensity of it so great that it twinges painfully in his perineum and balls. He rocks into her with every spurt of seed, jaws agape to pant through the pleasure.

Tobira gasps as Hashirama finally gives her what she wants, and knots her. Her fingers quickly find her sensitive clit to push her well over the edge, and she quickly sags underneath her own weight as her twitching muscles give out.

Hashirama jostles her a bit as he finishes, and Tobira hums happily while she feels where she’s stretched wide, taking all of what he has to give. After a moment of sated bliss, she brings her slick-covered hand up and offers it to Hashirama’s parted muzzle.

That big nose twitches a couple times before a long tongue comes out to swipe and clean her fingers off. Tobira giggles and places kisses on that nose in thanks.

And now she _knows_ he’s human, he can appreciate all the soft afterglow with her. His pants are interspersed with kisses and licks on her neck, and Tobira reciprocates as best she can.

Eventually they wind up on their sides, because Hashirama’s strong enough to move her despite them being locked together, but also because Tobira is _sure_ that he doesn’t want to accidentally squish her.

She is content with relaxing as she feels his cock twitch inside her, wondering if she actually _can_ get pregnant and whether or not the baby would be fully human. By the time Hashirama’s knot loosens, Tobira has decided that she doesn’t care either way, she’ll love their baby wholeheartedly.

Hashirama whuffs lowly down at his mate, licking at the fluffy hairs where they're mussed from their mating. His knot deflates, and he's careful to pull out only once he's gone entirely soft.

She moans when he moves, and Hashirama tucks her against the fur of his belly, and his mouth hangs open to pant, tongue slipping out. He purrs for her, content beyond what words could express.

Hashirama strokes the backs of his fingers down her side, mourning the loss of the sensation of her soft skin. But he can admire her, and he props his head up on one paw to admire the soft roundness of her face.

"Ești cea mai frumoasă femeie pe care am văzut-o vreodată," _you are the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld_ , he tells her, the words still awkward and slurred, but he means it.

Of course, it's just as he's told her this, that he gets some of that mussed hair up his nose and has to turn away for several violent sneezes.

Tobira hums as Hashirama purrs for her, the sound traveling pleasantly along her back. She laughs when Hashirama starts sneezing and despite not knowing what his words meant, the _tone_ came across loud and clear.

Reverence.

Tobira certainly doesn’t feel as though she’s deserving of that, but all she can do is giggle at the utterly pitiful look he sends her way, ears flopped down and big puppy-dog eyes.

Nothing a few kisses can’t fix.

* * *

“That _bitch_.”

Madara sighs, poking one of the servants-turned-rats in the cage just to hear him squeak before locking it up again and turning to see what has her sister all in a tizzy. Or rather, what Tobira has done _this_ time. Only to find Izuna by the enchanted rose, a symbolic representation of Hashirama’s curse.

It’s fully bloomed, a single petal fallen.

“So the curse is broken.”

“Well,” Izuna huffs, “It’s not as though Tobira _speaks_ any Romanian. She won’t understand a single word.”

Madara highly doubts Tobira _won’t_ find a way to communicate with Hashirama. This does, however, put a damper in their game.

“A cat? No, something stupider.” Izuna paces around the table. “Oh! I know! A _cow_.”

“Patience, sister, you’re forgetting that Tobira is magic-resistant. We’ll need a _plan_ if we’re to deal with her and Hashirama at the same time.”

Madara is loath to give them any _more_ time as it is, but she knows she’s the cooler head of the two of them. Izuna would barge in there and kill them both in a fit of rage, leaving them woefully bored again.

That, and there’s an ever so slight chance that Hashirama forgets himself and harms Izuna. Madara isn’t stupid, she would have spirited Izuna away from the castle if Hashirama didn’t begin to respond to their training. But Izuna is ever so fearless.

“Hmm, you may be right. There’s no way she’s _not_ pregnant, after all. Maybe a little reminder for our dear pet, then?”

Madara shakes her head, but defers to Izuna’s little ‘reminder’ for Hashirama. Better to be part of the plan than let Izuna come up with one all by herself.

* * *

Hashirama spends days with his mate, reacquainting himself with his mate. They engage in several more passionate couplings, several of which Hashirama spends on his back, and long walks in the gardens during which she talks to him in French.

Hashirama's French is...broken at best and gibberish at worst, and more than once he collapses into a fit of gloomy sulking because she laughs at him. She giggles some more, kisses him, and then leads him on a merry chase that ends in frantic coupling on the grass.

The weeks go by in sweet bliss, and for a while Hashirama forgets about the curse and its casters. That is, until Tobira's scent changes; and now that he can speak, it is with a heavy heart that he doesn't attempt to tell her and hopes for an early miscarriage.

Tobira’s first clue isn’t actually Hashirama. It’s the overabundance of spinach that she finds in the fridge during one of her early—very, _very_ early, to avoid the sisters—trips to make breakfast. And while a sudden, intense craving of spinach _could_ be the answer, not only is the season wrong for it, Tobira happens to know that spinach is full of folate, a vitamin that’s essential for healthy infant development and because it can prevent miscarriages.

Shamelessly, she adds spinach to her omelettes in the morning. It tastes good, if nothing else.

Hashirama winds up giving her a real definitive clue when he sleepily noses at her but refuses to set his head on her midsection. On her lap or her chest, sure, but never over her stomach.

And _that_ happens a mere day before Izuna finds them out in the garden, thankfully still clothed and tells her outright that she’s pregnant.

“I could help get rid of it,” Izuna offers with her next breath, as if it’s just _that easy_.

“No, thank you.” Tobira hides her nervously twitching fingers in Hashirama’s mane where he’s still laying on the grass next to her. He’s growling intermittently, which only serves to put Tobira more on edge.

Izuna scoffs. “That _thing_ cannot be good. Beast killed first love with baby, will kill you, too.”

Tobira squints at Izuna, unsure whether she’s using her colorful English metaphors again or if she’s actually being serious and a miscarriage or bad delivery killed Hashirama’s first lover.

But she isn’t given time to think anything over. All of a sudden Izuna points at her and says something in a language she can’t even begin to understand and Hashirama lunges up from the grass.

Izuna’s arrival already sets Hashirama’s teeth on edge; she's a danger and she's _far too close_ to his pregnant mate. The _tone_ of her speech hardly does anything to dissuade him otherwise, and the second he feels the gathering of magic for a spell on his fur, Hashirama leaps to his feet.

He's blind with feral rage, striking out to defend his _mate_ and the pups she carries for him. He doesn’t bother trying to scare the younger witch off with a swing of his antlers; he comes for her with his teeth bared.

Blood fills his mouth and a scream echoes through his ears, but it only serves to whet his appetite. Hashirama chases fleeing feet quickened by magic, snapping at calves and Achilles heels whenever they pass close enough.

At last he's seen the intruder off, and Hashirama’s tail lifts with pride and vicious satisfaction as he trots back to his mate. She's staring open mouthed at him from where she's sat in the grass, and Hashirama carefully comes to stand over her.

He can't quite help the marking spray that splashes against her back, and he's too busy trying to kiss her to care. Hashirama has kept her _safe_ , her and however many pups he's put in her belly.

Tobira blinks for the first time in several minutes. She doesn’t _entirely_ know what just happened, but what she does know is that she was just _threatened_. Enough so for Hashirama to push past any fear right into a fierce protection.

And what a protection it was! Tobira almost wishes she caught it on camera, but that wish only lasts as long as it takes for Hashirama to trap her underneath his furred chest and _piss on her_ , while attempting to put that muzzle that still has blood on it near her face.

He catches her hand and her arm a couple times, a happy whine coming from him while Tobira hisses at the scrape of teeth. She can even feel his stupid tail wagging.

“ _Ouch_ , Hashirama, you need to be gentle. Gentle!”

It’s a lost cause, however. Soon enough Tobira has to shove at him so she can be let up off the grass. And even then, Hashirama is near inconsolable, yipping and nudging at her, hot on her heels as she walks back inside. She’s going to need to get clean, first, before she storms the castle.

No one threatens her baby.

* * *

“Izuna—”

“Come off it, Madara.” Izuna sighs as she’s fussed over and she crosses her arms as Madara gives her a look that says she’s _not_ going to let this go.

So as Madara launches into how _‘irresponsible and downright idiotic’_ she just was, Izuna rolls her eyes and hides the tremble of her hands as her wounds are tended to.

Were it up to her, she’d go back out there and finish the job. Clearly Hashirama is more beast than man and there’s no saving him, not even his _voice_ can bring back the humanity he’s lost.

The gory bite to her leg stings something fierce, and Izuna still feels the residual flash of fear she felt when instead of antlers, she got _teeth_. And teeth that actually drew blood. Izuna glares out the window as she plots.

This is hardly the end, and that _brute_ is going to get what’s coming to him.

* * *

Hashirama whines and follows his beloved. He doesn’t want to let her out of his sight, but she smells of his mark and her own anger, and Hashirama knows this is a _hunt_.

Except, she goes to wash first...which is alright, even though he thinks she looks like a warrior queen with blood on her arms and some on her face. All the same, Hashirama stands guard over her dutifully, and even puts up with her washing his muzzle.

At last they begin to scour the castle. Hashirama’s nose, unfortunately, is less helpful than one would expect; Izuna and Madara’s scents are everywhere, and many are fresh, which makes them difficult to track.

They find one another in the ballroom, and Hashirama’s fur bristles with anger at the sight of Izuna. Madara, though more powerful, seems apprehensive about fighting.

Surprisingly, it's Tobira that makes the first move.

Tobira isn’t dumb, nor is she helpless. Her job as a paranormal mythbuster would have ended long ago if she was. Of course, never before has she had to defend herself against anything more deadly than a rampaging boar before, so this is a first.

Words, Tobira knows, will be useless. But her small throwing knife announces her displeasure quite nicely. It clatters to the ground, and not that Tobira was _expecting_ Izuna to just stand there and let her knife hit her, but it’s still disappointing nevertheless.

It also lets Tobira see that Izuna needs _space_ to cast that magic of hers. Later, Tobira will freak out about the very real proof of magic existing. Right now she needs to get _close_ to Izuna if she wants to do any real damage. She isn’t very far along in her pregnancy, so her mixed martial arts aren’t going to be affected.

Izuna narrows her eyes at her.

Tobira narrows her eyes back.

“Izuna,” Madara starts and Tobira listens attentively despite not understanding the rest of what’s spoken, “ _don’t do anything more stupid and rash than you already have_.”

Tobira watches those pursed lips part, that hand fly up—

And then all Tobira sees is Hashirama’s back as he cuts off her line-of-sight with a lunge and snarl.

Hashirama lashes out with teeth and claws, even as fire starts to fly. He doesn’t care about being singed, burnt, stabbed or killed; his mate and her safety is his only priority.

Izuna is quick and crafty, but she's not well suited to close-quarter battle. _Madara_ , who is eager to leap to her sister's defence, is a more difficult opponent. But not impossible.

His mate, too, seems eager to fight, but wisely stays out of the way. Which is just as well, as it soon becomes apparent that Hashirama has more stamina than the two women.

Tobira feels goosebumps rise on her arms as she keeps Hashirama firmly between her and the sisters. It feels wrong, to be defended when she threw the first punch, but against _that_? All that fire and magic?

She knows when to take a tactical retreat.

Soon enough there’s a scream followed by an anguished cry. No more flames for several seconds means Tobira allows herself to walk around Hashirama and see what’s happened.

Hashirama has Izuna’s arm caught in his mouth, and Madara’s hands are attempting to pry Hashirama’s jaws open. Her movement draws Madara’s gaze and Tobira tenses up for a blow.

A blow that doesn’t come.

“Please!” Madara’s accent is thicker now, coming out in full with her distress. “Tell Hashirama to let my sister go—”

“ _Let him take my arm off I’ll still fucking kill him dead!_ ”

“We’ll go,” Madara says, ignoring Izuna’s screech, “We’ll leave and never return.”

“ _Fuck that! We can still take them, fucking punch her_ —”

“ _Izuna! Shut up!_ ”

Tobira stares, eyebrows rising from the way Izuna’s blood drips down her arm from her struggles and Madara’s sharp words. Crossing her arms, she lets Hashirama’s growl go uninterrupted. Only after the vicious sound quiets does Madara look back to her.

“ **Please** , Tobira.”

She walks closer, seeing the strain of Madara’s gloved hands where they’re keeping Izuna’s arm from being bitten off.

“You know,” Tobira starts slowly, just because she’s feeling particularly petty, “it’s pretty shit to threaten a pregnant woman, and it’s _especially_ terrible to curse someone and expect them to be your ‘attack dog’.”

But Tobira isn’t heartless, not like the two sisters apparently are, and she sighs as she places a hand on Hashirama’s muzzle and runs her palm up to pet down the side of his face.

“Laissez-la tomber, Hashirama,” Tobira states, and when all Hashirama does is look at her, she tacks on, “S’il vous-plaît.”

_Drop her, please_.

Hashirama...doesn't want to. He wants to _hurt_ Izuna for what she's done, wants to crush her thin, fragile bones between the jaws that are her fault for _daring_ to threaten his mate—

But Tobira has asked him to let go. Has said please and stroked his face, fearless of the power residing in his muzzle, so obviously brought to bare. He loosens his hold, but doesn't let go just yet.

"Madara," he rumbles, " _swear on your sister's life that you will leave and not return, save to ensure the safe delivery of any children I may have, and the health of my beloved afterwards. Swear this to me, and I will release Izuna_."

He will not lose Tobira to childbirth. He will not be losing _anyone_ anymore, and it's time Madara repaid him for three hundred years of cruelty.

“ _Sister don’t you **dare**_ —”

Wisely, Izuna shuts up when Madara whips her head around to glare her into submission. Madara closes her eyes but she already knows her answer, and so she takes a single breath before nodding to Hashirama.

“ _I swear on Izuna’s life that we will leave and not return save when you call. I’ll even come alone, if that’s what it’ll take_.”

Izuna’s face pinches as the magic in Madara’s words settles in the air around them. But Madara’s sure that Izuna won’t come back...probably. She knows that Izuna’s going to be upset, but will get over it...eventually.

The moment Madara feels the slightest give in the powerful jaws she’s hauling Izuna in for a hug and smothering her face into her shoulder to prevent her from saying or doing anything to jeopardize their chance to flee with their lives.

“ _I’ll leave calling spells at the ready in the guest room we were in. I will patch Izuna up and we’ll go_.”

* * *

Hashirama is almost surprised that they do go; he half expected a trick of some kind, but it doesn't come. The servants reappear, far happier to see him than he thinks they ever were. Even his favourite chaise is restored.

Hashirama spends his time bonding with his mate, hunting and learning English, though he occasionally still defaults to his native Romanian. It's almost like a holiday.

In the months that follow Tobira's belly grows rapidly, and Hashirama ensures that she could want for _nothing_. He brings her rabbit, and deer, bitter wild roots and blueberries.

He's not quite sure when he started lining the nests in his fur, plucked religiously from his coat. It's what Tobira finds him doing now, and he looks up at her swollen, heavy, round belly over his back. 

He was _just_ picking out some of his undercoat, it's not as though he's doing something _wrong_...

Going from an empty castle to suddenly having someone around every corner is an adjustment Tobira is still coming to terms with. No doubt part of the magic that Madara and Izuna had a hand in.

And that’s an entirely different thing Tobira is still coming to terms with as well. Thankfully she’s been able to tell her producers as little as possible and tell them off for thinking about coming to ‘rescue’ her from the ‘terrible beast’.

She confirmed the presence of an animal in the castle, and decided to give a few clips of Hashirama snoring and one really good picture she got of him on a stone overlooking the garden.

They expressed worry over her interacting with such a creature, but Tobira assured them of her safety with limited success. She’ll need to call them at least once a week, but that’s better than them sending a search party and then seeing this entire magical castle.

And her belly.

In regards to her pregnancy, Hashirama has brought back so much for her—clearly some animal instinct to provide. While the cooks might be happy with all the food, the gardener wasn’t very impressed when Hashirama brought back a whole wild blueberry bush. Of course, Hashirama has been incessantly watching her, laying his large paws on her and asking her to keep resting, to not move around as much.

It’s annoying. Overbearing aside, Tobira has also noticed that Hashirama’s been stressed out, even more than herself.

Tobira looks down at where Hashirama has been _ripping his own fur out_ to stuff in the cracks of their nest. He actually _looks_ like a scraggly monster, uneven fur patches and a sort of crazed look in his eyes. Tobira knows he’s worried for her, but she’s not the first woman to carry a child, and she certainly won’t be the last.

Rolling her eyes fondly, she steps closer to him, smiling as his tail begins wagging despite how he keeps averting his eyes from her guiltily. Gently, she takes the fur from his mouth and sets it on the blanket. A kiss on that wet and cold nose gets her a whine.

Tobira speaks slowly in English most times, and for the most part Hashirama can pick up what she means, but she tries to steer clear of harder words more often than not. But for this, she’ll use French, because she _knows_ he understands that, and can’t feign not knowing.

“I’m doing _fine_ , Hashirama, you worry too much. Our baby is safe and sound, as am I. We need to find you a better way of dealing with your stress than pulling your fur out.”

Tobira would actually really enjoy being able to do more than just the gentle licking Hashirama's given her. She _wants_ and while she knows she certainly shouldn't take all of Hashirama's cock, surely the tip would be fine? And besides, perhaps it would be good stress relief, if he'd only let her reciprocate. She barely gets a hand _near_ his sheath when she's rubbing and scratching his belly and he rolls away. She isn't going to _force_ him but she definitely thinks it might help him.

Hashirama makes a low moan of guilt and rolls over to cuddle up to his mate. She smells absolutely divine, and it's difficult enough to contain himself without her scratching his belly and teasing toward his cock.

"Not stressed," he tells her in English, just to prove he can. And it's _true_ , he just wants her to be comfortable and happy and safe; though _Tobira_ seems determined to cause _him_ stress by wandering around when she should be resting.

He presses his nose against her thigh and snuffles up to the underside of her breasts. They've not exactly _grown_ as much as one would think, but they're far firmer than ever they were.

The heady scent is thick here, rich and sweet in a way that makes his cock twitch with desire. But Hashirama knows that he must wait, despite the temptation she makes of herself. He could seriously hurt her or the pups, and he doesn't want that.

More than once he's stolen her clothing out of the washing pile to take to his chaise and hump to completion. The servants are well and truly tired of the mess he leaves, but he can't help it!

Hashirama’s snuffling in addition to making Tobira more horny than she already is, gives her an idea. So she very carefully moves her hands to his mane, stroking down to give his chest some scritches.

“Hashirama,” Tobira coos down at him where his snout is underneath her tits, “I want to show you something.”

It might need some planning in the future, but things lined up nicely now, so Tobira moves her hand lower, slowly, and waits until she sees him twitch to back off a little. But she can see the very tip of her prize, can _see_ the way he’s getting turned on by nuzzling her.

It’s now or never.

“You know, Hashirama, there’s a way we could _do things_ ,” Tobira shifts her hand lower again, to make a point, “that wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Hashirama’s gone still, but he hasn’t moved away yet, and Tobira is going to take that as a good sign.

“You’ve been _so_ attentive to me, such a strong and handsome mate.” There’s more nuzzling, even some mouthing at her tits as Tobira’s hand circles the tip of his cock and Hashirama whines at her. “You’re even a _daddy_ now—”

Tobira makes a sound of surprise as Hashirama’s cock fully emerges from his sheath and slips through her hand as Hashirama makes a mess everywhere.

Hashirama is very glad that his fur doesn't allow him to blush, but he can't help the overstimulated panting as he slumps onto his side. His sudden and entirely unexpected orgasm has taken quite a bit of the wind out of his sails.

He lifts one leg, eagerly giving his mate access to his now fully exposed member. He worries a little for his control, but his beloved insists she has a good idea, and Hashirama trusts her.

Tobira hums, vowing to not let this discovery go. But for now all she does is simply push Hashirama until he’s laying on his back and waits for him to wriggle into a more comfortable position.

Then she settles herself over him, delighting in the way his paws grasp her hips. He whines at her when she reaches down to direct his cock towards her, but Tobira doesn’t stop, she simply places that delightful cock right to her pucker.

As she gently slips it inside her, she groans and gets a front row seat to Hashirama’s wide eyes. Biting her lip, she lowers herself further and relishes in the feeling of all the ridges and sheer _girth_ that Hashirama’s cock provides. She feels claws grip her hips and it only further excites her.

When fur brushes against her pussy, Tobira is nearly breathless, almost completely seated on Hashirama and loving it completely. She should have done this much, much earlier.

Tobira gives herself a few moments to adjust before she begins to move.

* * *

Hashirama paces anxiously in their room. His mate has had her contractions, and Madara has already arrived. Tobira will be giving birth soon, and none of them know what to expect.

He crawls on his belly up to where she's lying, whining and nosing her, nervous and frightened of what is to come. While Madara's presence will certainly help, Hashirama can't help but drown under all the fear his nightmares have brought in the last few days.

Tobira huffs, the only sound she can make to express her amusement at Hashirama's behavior. One would think _he's_ the one about to push a baby out of him, with how much noise he's making.

She gently cards her hand through his fur and his mane, scratching behind one of his ears as he leans into her touch, whining.

"Ooh," Tobira hisses and then has to push Hashirama away from her as he suddenly gets closer to her face, whining louder.

Madara touches her knee and she knows it's time to push.

And push she does, until Madara taps her knee again, leaving her panting.

This happens two more times, Tobira growing more and more annoyed with Hashirama as he attempts to crowd even closer until the shrill call of a baby causes Hashirama to freeze.

"Oh thank god."

"I wouldn't thank anyone just yet, I'm pretty sure there's another in there." 

Tobira groans at Madara's voice, but holds her arms out expectantly in the lull for her baby. The first thing she notices about her baby is the _nose_ , which isn't quite a normal human nose, but looks cute set in the small, round face. The next thing she notices is that there are floppy ears nearly hidden away in fuzzy baby hair. Tobira loves her little boy already.

Hashirama has started snuffling the top of his head, and Tobira wastes no time in pulling the babe to her chest to eat. It's then, as she's stroking down the baby's back that she feels a soft line of fur, and a tuft of tail wriggling happily against her.

She hums, and leans back as another wave of contractions hit. Small little clawed fingers grip her breast and Tobira is in love.

Now for the next one to come out so she can love them as well.

A boy and a girl, two beautiful pups whom Hashirama subjects to a thorough tongue bath. His mate, too, gets a bath, even though he has to wait outside the tub for that one.

While they do _have_ a cot, Hashirama prefers to let the pups sleep in bed with them, and ends up with two little pups buried in the fur of his side, bellies full and eyes closed. His mate seems to find it most amusing, but Hashirama can't _move_.

He nips her for laughing, but that becomes the new normal, and for the first time in a very long time he's deeply and truly _happy_. A month goes by, and Tobira's afterbirth comes, and another month passes and she's stopped walking so gingerly.

"Hashirama," she says to him one evening, and he turns to look at her curiously. She only very rarely uses that tone.

"Yes my queen?"

Tobira blushes at the endearment. Especially since she does almost feel like that, living in a big castle with servants running about. But she keeps on point.

"I was wondering if you would like more," Tobira brings a hand to play with the soft curls of her daughter, delighting in the way a small ear twitches in her direction. "I certainly would like more."

Tobira never thought that she would be in this position, a _mother_ and of two darling little ones. She understands that they aren't completely human, but she doesn't care—she grew them, she is nurturing them now, they're _hers_.

Or rather, _Hashirama's_ and her's.

When the silence stretches she finally looks away from their two bundles of joy to meet Hashirama's golden brown eyes.

"I'm serious, I wouldn't mind a full castle of them."

"N-now?" He asks, somewhat taken aback. He can, of course he can, but this is not what Hashirama expected. The very last thing he expected, as he's willing to admit he was still waiting for Tobirama to abandon their pups and leave him.

That fear evaporates with her request, and the slow, fond look she gives him that Hashirama knows means she thinks he's being silly settles his nerves. He snuffles, tucks his nose under her breast, and slowly lifts his leg.

He's already hard for her, cock peeking out of its sheath to bob between them. His ears dip and his tail wags; he can't help it. She's _gorgeous_ suckling their pups.

Tobira smiles as Hashirama shows his eagerness with a whine and wagging tail. She's eager too, and her hands trail down his furry stomach with purpose toward the hot, sticky cock she wants inside her.

It jumps in her hand as she strokes it, and Tobira shuffles a bit so she can gently swing a leg over and position herself nicely without disturbing the babies.

They fuss a bit at the change, but settle quickly as they continue suckling on her full tits.

Humming, Tobira rocks her hips to tease Hashirama some more before slipping the pointed tip inside her. She sighs at the stretch, and then continues to work that glorious cock inside her.

She wants more babies, and she's going to enjoy making them with Hashirama over and over and over again.


End file.
